Rescue Me
by Loosing Myself in Love
Summary: Melody Scott has been in love with Dean Winchester since before she can remember. Her mother died pinned to the ceiling. On fire. Her dad and John spent their lives tracking down the thing that killed them. Her and Dean were friends, right? But when John goes missing, leaving Mel, Dean, and Sam to track him down, will everything change? Dean/OC Set Season 1
1. Woman in White

****Hey guys! Okay, I know this is only one chapter so far, but PLEASE REVIEW! It's my first one and I'm really super nervous, so tell me what you think and yeah! Also FYI: they get together pretty early on in the season. Not going to give anything away but just so you know!****

_Woman in White_

Lawrence, Kansas

"Come on, let's say good night to your brother," Mary Winchester flicked the light on, illuminating the nursery before walking in carrying the four year old on her hip. She set the boy down, and he ran over to the crib that sat in the middle of the room and grabbed the bars, looking down at his baby brother. Mary glanced back through the doorway, smiling at the uncertain four year old who stood there. She reached back with an open hand, offering it to the child, who smiled nervously before taking it and allowing herself to be led into the nursery. She joined the second toddler and smiled childishly down at the baby in the crib.

"Good night, Sam," A young Dean leaned in to kiss his brother's forehead before looking up at his mother.

"Night," Melody Scott giggled as the baby wrapped his small fingers around one of her larger ones. She jostled her finger up and down making the baby's arm dance and him to giggle as well.

"Good night, love," Mary echoed the two kids, smiling lovingly at them and then down at her baby. She brushed what little hair Sam had back affectionately before planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Hey, Dean, Mel," A smile lit up both of the kids faces when they looked back to see John Winchester standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Since her mom had died three and a half years ago and her dad was always away on 'business', John and Mary had become her second parents. Well, technically they were her second parents, being her godparents.

"Daddy!" Dean ran over to his dad and hugged him hard as John picked him up and spun him around, laughing.

"Hey, buddy," He looked over just in time to kneel down and catch Mel as she also hugged him, causing him to laugh more. Mel wasn't his kid, but she may as well have been because he cared for her almost as much as his own sons. "What do you two think? Think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

"No, daddy," Dean and Mel giggled delightedly at his joke, and Mel pulled away from the two of them to glance back at Sammy. Mary smiled tiredly at them as she walked past on her way to the door, stopping briefly to push back Mel's chestnut bangs.

"You got them?" She gazed up at her husband, and he nodded still smiling.

"I got them," He answered before his gaze shifted to Mel. "Her dad drop her off again?"

"Few hours ago," Mary sighed, shaking her head, "I love having her, but…" She just shook her head again.

"I'll talk to him," John promised her, a small frown tugging at his lips. Mary hesitated but finally nodded before continuing out the door and to bed. "Sweet dreams, Sam," He smiled, rubbing Dean's back before taking Mel's hand and leading her out of the room with them, flicking off the light as he went. John put the two kids to bed, telling them a brief story before tucking them in and turning off the light.

"Good night, Dean," She giggled before squirming under the covers.

"Good night, Mel," He answered, smiling at her and then his dad as he left the room.

Almost as suddenly as sleep had overtaken Melody Scott, it vanished. She was bolt upright even before she was fully awake. In a way that only small children can, she sensed something was very wrong. Immediately, Mel looked over at Dean, who was also sitting up looking terrified, but not entirely sure what had woken them. A scream. Or someone shouting. Dean was climbing out of his bed, and Mel scrambled to do the same.

"What is going on?" She questioned, her hazel eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"Come on," Dean opened the door, and they crept out into the hallway, seemingly drawn to the open nursery door. Suddenly, the dark doorway was flooded with an eerie, bright light. John ran from the room with a crying Sam clutched in his arms.

"Daddy!" Dean cried, growing more and more fearful by the moment. John crouched in front of the two children and shoved Sam as carefully as he could into Dean's arms.

"Take your brother and Mel outside as fast as you can!" John looked wild, and Mel could see the flames from inside the door. "Don't look back!" He was shouting, urgency clear in his voice. "Now, Dean! Go!"

"Come on!" Dean awkwardly managed to push Mel down the hallway in front of him. One push was all she needed to begin running as fast as her small legs would carry her down the stairs. She was oddly comforted by the sound Dean's footsteps and labored breathing that followed her all the way out the door. She stopped on the grass a couple feet away from the porch; a morbid curiosity grasping her and making her look up at the window of the nursery that glowed with a strange orange light.

"It's okay," Dean was beside her now, clutching Sam to his chest. "It'll be okay," She hadn't realized she was crying until a teardrop splashed onto her hand.

"Run Melody!" John sprinted out of the door of the house, and Mel turned and bolted, running faster than she ever had in her life. "Gotcha," John grabbed Dean and followed her as the second story to the house exploded, flames coming out of the windows and licking at the roof.

It took ten minutes for the ambulances and fire department to arrive, not that it did much good. Mel was curled up into a ball next to Dean on the hood of the impala. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees as they watched the house burn as the firefighters tried in vain to save it. Next to Dean, John was clutching Sammy tightly to his chest and glaring harshly at the burning house, the events of the last twenty minutes replaying over and over in his mind like a broken record.

-Present Day-

"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea," I told Dean for the millionth time as he slid the window open. He just glanced back at me and winked with that ridiculous, self-satisfied smirk on his face. Unfortunately, I also thought it was ridiculously sexy, which only worked to aggravate me more. I'd just spent a two hour car ride with him after we hunted a voodoo witch further south. Needless to say, it had been a long day.

"Relax, Mel, what could go wrong?" He slipped inside the house before offering me his hand with another smirk. I just shot him a look before swinging myself in easily. "Quit worrying,"

"Well one of us has too," I retorted, looking around the homey living room. "We could just use the door," I pointed out. "You know, like normal people?" He just grinned crookedly at me, making me grin back against my will. Stupid Winchester charm. I had to admit though, I was excited to see Sam again. It had been too long. He was practically a baby brother to me, and I hadn't seen the kid in over a year.

"I'm going to get us a beer," Dean moved and the floor squeaked under him, not that it mattered. The whole point of being here was to get Sam to help us find John. I followed Dean to the kitchen, opening the fridge only to find it void of anything alcoholic. "Who doesn't have booze? Seriously?" Dean was complaining softly from a couple feet away where he was checking the drawers and cabinets.

"I'm sure it's around here somewhere. We're talking about John's son here," I pointed out, smiling slightly as Dean glanced at me sharply. I winced as I remembered why we were here getting Sammy in the first place. "Dean, he's going to be fine," Dean just fingered the ring that he wore and shrugged.

"Whatever, let's just get Sam," He walked past me into the living room again, and I sighed as I watched him go. Damn Dean Winchester. A familiar feeling rose in my throat, and I swallowed it with an effort. Love. I was in love with him. I had been in love with him for forever. Unfortunately for me, that ship had sailed a long time ago. We spent practically our entire lives together. Growing up, our dads hunted the same thing that had killed both our moms, so we would be left together a lot. We'd dated in high school for nearly two years, and what was really funny was that I had been the one to end things. And here I was eight years later and still in love with him. Irony.

A grunting sound pulled me out of my thoughts, followed by the thud of skin on skin contact. Show time. I leaned on the doorframe watching the two men throw punches at each other. It didn't take long for Dean to pin Sam to the floor, that same crooked grin on his face as he glanced up at me with his amused green eyes before looking back down to Sam.

"Whoa, easy, Tiger," I couldn't help the smile from overtaking my face as I could almost sense Sam's surprise.

"Dean?" He asked incredulously between pants. Dean just let out a small chuckle, enjoying the situation immensely. "You scared the crap out of me," I let out a laugh at that and saw Sam's head tilt upward to find the source of the sound.

"That's cause your out of practice," Dean patronized him causing Sam to grab his wrist with both hands and use his feet to flip them, so Sam was on top with his hand at Dean's throat. "Or not," Dean chuckled while I laughed again making Sam look up at me. "Get off of me," I stepped into the room and was instantly shrouded in the moonlight from the windows while Sam stood and pulled Dean to his feet.

"Dean, Mel, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked, frowning a bit.

"What, no hug?" I pouted in mock disappointment while Sam grinned, moving past Dean, so I could fling myself at him. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck making him laugh and hug me back equally as hard. Two rooms down, I heard his girlfriend getting up, so I pulled away from him. About four years ago I'd started developing…abilities. Well, really just one ability. I could hear things. Things like someone waking up two rooms away. I'd learned to hide it well, though. Not many people knew. John knew. And Bobby. And my dad had. And Dean. That was it.

"We were looking for a beer," Dean stepped in front of me and put both his hands on Sam's shoulders, shaking him slightly. Sam glanced past Dean to me and then back, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure something out.

"Sam?" A new, feminine voice joined our reunion and the lights were switched on to reveal Sam's girlfriend, Jess, who was in her pajamas.

"Jess, hey," Sam didn't sound so enthusiastic about us meeting. "Dean, Mel, this is my girlfriend, Jessica," I didn't even have to look at Dean to know he was checking her out.

"Wait. Mel? Your best friend back home?" I half waved and offered her a smile which she returned warmly before moving on to Dean. " And your brother Dean?"

"I love the Smurfs," Dean responded, walking up to her while I glared at his back. "You know, I got to tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league," I couldn't take it anymore; I smacked the back of his head. He turned to me with almost childlike surprise, rubbing the back of his head. It wasn't the flirting; that I could handle. God knows I'd had years of training. But Sam's girlfriend?

"Let me put something on," Jess glanced uncertainly between the three of us, her gaze resting on Sam.

"No, no, no," Dean spoke smoothly, shaking his head. "No, I wouldn't dream of it, seriously," I couldn't stop myself from giving him another smack, but this time when he turned to glare at me there was a hint of smugness on his features. 'Sam's girlfriend' I mouthed to him, glaring back at him. "Anyway," We turned back to Jess, who was looking back and forth between us with a small smile. "We got to borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family affairs, but nice meeting you," I rolled my eyes at his gesture but didn't bother hitting him a third time, and instead just walked over to Sam.

"No," Sam decided, and I glanced at him in surprise. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her," Dean and I glanced at each other uncertainly before I shrugged. It was his choice.

"John's went on a trip and he hasn't been home in a few days," I looked at him levelly, hoping he'd get the message. Jess glanced at Sam before looking back at me questioningly.

"John?" Wow, Sam really hadn't waisted any time delving into his past, had he?

"His dad," I explained in as few words as I could, returning my attention back to Sam.

"So he's working overtime on a 'miller time' shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later," I shifted, biting the inside of my cheek, and opened my mouth to reply when Dean beat me to it.

"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days," The confident grin slipped off of Sam's face, and I knew he could see the worry hidden in Dean's eyes as clear as I could.

"Jess, excuse us," Sam followed us down the stairs as we left the house and headed back to the impala. "Come on, you can't just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you guys,"

"You're not hearing me, Sammy," Dean brushed off his protests. "Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the Poltergeist in Amerst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton?" Sam insisted, "He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with us or not?" Sam's eyes stayed trained on Dean as he asked the question.

"I'm not," He spoke decisively.

"Why not?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I swore I was done hunting for good," Dean rolled his eyes before looking back at Sam.

"Come on, it's just one hunt," I intervened in their argument. Dean's eyes snapped to me. I knew he wanted Sam to stay with us, to get everything back the way it was, but that just wasn't going to happen. If it had been up to me we would have never gone to Stanford, but we did need his help with this. "Was it really that terrible?"

"She's right," Dean agreed begrudgingly. "I mean, it wasn't easy but it wasn't that bad," Sam was growing less and less confident about his choices, which was good for us.

"Yeah? When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45," Sam argued with us.

"Well, what was he supposed to do?" Dean questioned while I opened the gate.

"I was nine years old. He was supposed to say 'don't be afraid of the dark'," Sam told us, glancing between us.

"He raised you the best way he knew how, Sammy," I told him, and then grew a little more heated, adding, "And of course you should be afraid of the dark. You of all people know what's out there."

"Yeah, I know, but still, the way we grew up after our mom was killed. And our dads' obsession to find the thing that killed her, but we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we _can _find."

"Save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean interjected evenly while Sam ranted.

"You think Mom would've wanted this for us?" Dean's face tightened as Sam spoke directly to him. Instead of answering, he pushed the gate open, and we walked through. "Do you think your mom would've wanted this?" He addressed me this time, and I glared up at him.

"I really wouldn't know, now would I?" I replied, my voice deadly calm. "Because the evil thing that your dad is hunting, killed her," Sam looked away in exasperation and then back.

"But she wouldn't have wanted this life for you. The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets?" He looked back at Dean and then me and then back. "Man, we were raised like warriors,"

"So, what are you gonna do?" Dean kept walking with me following and Sam behind us. "Are you just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal," I stopped when I reached the Impala and turned to face him as he finished. "Safe."

"And that's why you ran away," Dean didn't phrase it like a question, but he waited for Sam to answer anyway.

"I was just going to college." Sam protested, glancing at me for support, but I was helpless. I hadn't exactly opened up to Dean about how I'd encouraged Sam to take the scholarship he was offered. "It was dad who said if I was gonna go, then I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah? Well, Dad's in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it," Dean glanced at me and then back at Sam. "We can't do this alone."

"Yes you can," Sam glanced between us, scoffing.

"We don't want to," I spoke up from beside Dean, knowing he probably wouldn't say it. I held Sam's gaze unflinchingly, pleading with him to reconsider his decision. Finally, he sighed in defeat.

"What was he hunting?" In answer, Dean pulled up the hood of the Impala, setting the rifle to hold up the false bottom.

"All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?" I leaned in to point to the back left corner.

"I think you shoved it somewhere over there," I offered, glancing at Sam and giving him a small smile.

"So when Dad left, why didn't you two go with him?" Sam questioned, and I shoved Dean's hands away, picking up the folded paper from the side pocket and handing it to him with a smirk.

"We were working our own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans," Dean spoke almost proudly, sending me a smirk; he had saved my life during that hunt.

"Dad let you two go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Both Dean and I turned to him indignantly at that.

"Sam, we're twenty six," I pointed out.

"Okay, here we go," Dean unfolded the missing persons reports, "Dad was working this gig just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago this guy - they found his car, but he'd vanished. Completely M.I.A."

"So maybe he was kidnapped," Sam suggested with a naïve hopefulness.

"Yeah," Dean told him doubtfully. "Well, here's another one in April. Another one in December, '04,'03, '98, '92…" Dean listed off, glancing up at Sam to make sure he was getting this.

"Ten of them in the past 20 years," I told him; I'd studied the reports in the car on the way over. "All men, all same five-mile stretch of road,"

"Started happening more and more," Dean picked up where I left off. "So Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough," Dean looked up at Sam again, who was looking more and more disappointed. This was no doubt a hunt. "And then I get this voicemail yesterday,"

"Dean," The distorted voice of John Winchester came over the speaker of the flip, "Something is starting to happen. I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on. You and Mel may need to look into it. Be very careful Dean. We're all in danger."

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam offered as the message stopped.

"Not bad, Sammy," Dean's grin was back, letting me know a smart ass comment wasn't far behind. "Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" I grinned and shook my head while Sam shot me a look. "All right, we slowed the message down and ran it through a Goldwave, took out the hiss, and this is what we got,"

"I can never go home," A very creepy feminine voice whispered.

"Never go home," Sam echoed, thinking it over. We straightened and Dean pulled the trunk down to cover the ammunition.

"You know in almost two years, we've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean glanced at me and back to Sam, who met my eyes in surprise. I kept my gaze cool and didn't give anything away even though my brain was screaming at Sammy to keep his mouth shut. Sam looked away before finally sighing.

"All right. I'll go," He glanced at me and then back to Dean warningly, "I'll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here,"

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked as Sam was walking away. He turned back to answer the question, and I could see the excitement dancing in his eyes as he did.

"I have an interview," Sam told him guardedly.

"What, a job interview? Skip it," Dean replied flippantly.

"It's a law school interview," Sam responded defensively, as if already preparing for Dean's remarks. "And it's my whole future on a plate," He added.

"Law school?" Was all Dean said before Sam rushed on.

"So we got a deal or not?" Dean didn't say anything and I sighed, rolling my eyes at his antics.

"Deal," I replied for him, grinning at Sam. "Hurry up and get your stuff we won't wait forever." Sam turned and hurried up the stairs.

"Law school?" Dean echoed again once Sammy was safely out of earshot. I just glanced at him and then back to where Sammy had disappeared.

"It's his life, Dean," I told him softly. Truth be told I was almost envious of him. Oh what the hell, I was jealous. He had a great life. Everything I had wanted in high school. "You could try to be a bit more supportive,"

"I am supportive!" Dean protested, making me turn and raise an eyebrow at him. "Maybe sometimes I can be a little harsh-" He began admitting.

"Sometimes?" I echoed playfully causing him to mock glare. I laughed, turning around to lean my back on the Impala door when suddenly a thought struck me and made me groan. "I'm going to have to sit in the back, aren't I?" Dean grinned, which of course made me grin back.

"Come on, it'll be just like old times. Me, you, and Sammy," He smiled with a childlike hopefulness and excitement. I looked away from his face. I knew that Dean wanted Sammy to stay permanently, and I also knew that Sammy would come back after we finished the case.

"Dean, Sammy has a life here. He has a girlfriend, and a house, and friends," Dean frowned at the stairs where Sammy had disappeared, but quickly changed the frown to a smirk when he saw me studying his face. That was the thing about Dean. He could be going through hell and no one would ever know. He was always had to protect Sammy and me, never let anyone see his pain.

"He'll come back," Dean tried to brush off his doubts. "We're family," I didn't say what I was thinking: maybe family wasn't enough anymore. We all felt strongly about family. Growing up, we relied on each other above all else, but Sammy had his own family now. I sighed, looking down before glancing back up at the house.

"I don't know, Dean. He seems…" I trailed off, looking for the right words to describe the Sammy I'd seen in there. "Happy," I finally went with simple. It was true. He seemed happy. Happier than I'd seen him in a long time. My eyes flicked to Dean to see he was watching my face, but as soon as my eyes met his he looked at the house. I tried to ignore the feeling that rose again in my stomach. I was twenty-six, not sixteen.

"He'll come. You'll see," Dean told me with false confidence.

"Whatever you say," I hid my smile by letting a curtain of hair fall over the side of my face as I gazed intently at the tip of my boot. I knew that whenever I said that it pissed him off.

"No, don't 'whatever you say' me," He walked over to me, looming over my five foot seven body. I just laughed softly at his joking attempt to intimidate me. "Just trust me on this. Besides, you owe me from the last hunt," He wiggled his eyebrows at me as he casually brought it up.

"I had it handled," I tried to brush it off as nothing, making him laugh.

"You were getting your ass handed to you," He laughed, and I rolled my eyes but joined him.

"Shut up," I gently shoved his chest with my hands, and he grabbed my wrists as his back hit the Impala. I made the mistake of looking up and was captivated by his green eyes. I could feel the smile sliding off my lips, and my brain screamed warnings at me. Above us, a door slammed and footsteps were coming down the stairs. I blinked harshly, and Dean quickly released my wrists, looking away as I backed up. Damn it. That was stupid.

"Ready?" Sam threw his stuff into the trunk and glanced at us. He frowned again as his eyes flicked between us before landing on Dean. "Your driving?" He prompted coming around to the front door.

"No, yeah, I'm driving. Of course I'm driving," Dean walked around the hood of his car to the drivers door while I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

"Shotgun," Sammy grinned at me, and I glowered.

"We're switching when we stop for gas," I warned him, and he just got into the Impala. Hopefully the trip wouldn't be too long, I thought as I stretched out in the back seat.

-3rd person-

"Hey. You want breakfast?" Dean called to Sam, who was still in the passengers seat, looking through the multitude of fake credit cards and IDs. Sam glanced up at Dean, who had some candy bar sticking out of his mouth, and then his gave moved to Mel, who was asleep in the back seat leaning on the door.

"No, thanks, but you should probably get something for Mel," Sam answered, remembering how cranky Mel got when she didn't eat.

"Yeah, I know. I got her some bars already," Sam's mouth twitched up in a small smile and made a mental note to ask Dean about it later.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff?" He asked instead. "You and dad and Mel still running credit card scams?"

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career," Dean replaced the gas pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards,"

"Yeah," Sam grew a bit aggravated by how casually Dean broke the law. "And what names did you write on the application this time?"

"Uh…" Dean had to think for a moment.

"Bert Aframian and his son, Hector along with Lisa Froman," Mel spoke up from the back seat, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

"Scored three cards out of the deal," Dean grinned as he past her the two bars along with a bag of chips.

"Sounds about right," Sam nodded, and then, looking down at his cassettes, "I swear, guys, you got to update your cassette-tape collection." He glanced back at Mel, who shrugged.

"Don't look at me, I keep telling him. He just won't listen," I protested making Dean scoff.

"Hey! You love my cassettes. What's wrong with them?" Dean defended.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes," I laughed lightly at Sam's jab. "And two, Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica?" He held up the cassette, and Dean snatched it from him. "It's the greatest hits of the Mullet Rock,"

"House rules, Sammy - driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole," Dean told him, having heard enough of Sammy's bitching.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It's Sam, okay?" Dean just turned up the music.

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud," He glanced back at me with a grin before stepping on the gas.

-Mel-

"All right, so there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue," Sammy told us, flipping down the phone. "So that's something, I guess." I was about to reply when something up ahead caught my eye, and I hit Dean's shoulder to get his attention.

"That looks interesting," I pointed to the police cars by the bridge.

"Check it out," Dean pulled over on the side of the road, and I nearly leapt out of the car. Stretching my legs had never felt so good. I opened Sammy's door to see Dean already had the glove compartment open and was drawing out the box. I walked around the car to Dean's side as he handed me the cards. Sam stared at us incredulously as Dean got out and stood beside me, offering Sam a cocky smile. "Let's go,"

"No sign of footprints, fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean," The men down by the river were equally confused as they brought up nothing as well. Guy just vanished. We walked up to stand beside the car in front of the officers. "So this kid, Troy, he's dating your daughter, isn't he?"

"Yeah," The second officer spoke sadly.

"How's amy doing?" He questioned. Amy. We should look for her next.

"She's been putting up missing posters downtown," He answered with that same note of sorrow.

"You fellows had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean announced our entrance, walking around the wary officer.

"And who are you?" I came to stand by Dean as he talked to the cop. The cop looked me up and down warily before his eyes returned to Dean with a look of suspicion.

"Federal Marshals," Dean responded as we held up our fake badges.

"Who's he," The cop, which I now realized was probably Sheriff, jerked his chin at Sam who stood behind us.

"Consultant," I lied without so much as blinking; the sheriff bought it, but was still suspicious.

"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" He questioned. Dean just laughed shortly, looking away briefly.

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you," I was already looking in the car. It didn't smell like sulfur, which meant probably not a demon. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right, bout a mile up the road," Could be a spirit haunting the road. "There have been others before that."

"So this victim - you knew him?" Sam asked the sheriff while I rummaged through the glove compartment and between the seats.

"A town like this, everybody knows everybody," The Sheriff responded, but I sensed a note of hostility in his voice.

"But you didn't care for him?" It wasn't really a question, but I left it open for him to expand on. He glanced at me and then across to the officer he'd been talking to before. Who's daughter had been dating him.

"Not my place to judge people," Was all he answered. "Some liked him, some didn't as much," He shrugged stiffly. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Any connection between the victims besides that they're all men?" Dean continued without missing a beat, saving me from answering as I stood.

"No. Not so far as we can tell," The officer informed us.

"So what's the theory?" Sam asked as I leaned my elbows on the car and studied the sheriff. Next to me, Dean finally stopped circling the car and Sam came to stand beside us.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder, kidnapping ring." He listed theories, but he really didn't have any idea.

"Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect-"

"Dean," I snapped, grabbing his arm and glaring at him while Sam stomped on his foot. I turned back to the sheriff, giving him a sweet smile. "We will be leaving now,"

"Thanks for your time," Sam smiled as well, "Gentlemen," He nodded at the others before walking back towards the Impala. I kept my grip on Dean's arm, steering him away from the police until we were out of earshot.

"What the hell?" I hissed at him.

"What?" I rolled my eyes and released him. "Oh come on, kidnapping ring?" My mouth twitched, but I fought the smile.

"They're a lot more likely to check our badges if your rude," I admonished him, glancing up as he sighed.

"She's right, Dean," Sam backed me up, and Dean sped up to hit Sam in the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam hissed, glaring at him as I fell into step on the other side of him.

"Why you got to step on my foot?" Dean hissed back.

"Why do you have to talk to police like that?" Dean looked between us with genuine surprise and walked in front of us, stopping us.

"Come on," Dean glanced back and forth between us, and I glared up at him. "They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're gonna find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves," I frowned as I saw officers standing behind Dean. Sam cleared his throat, and Dean turned to face them.

"Can I help you kids?" The officer asked. Kids?

"No, sir. We were just leaving," I answered, smiling kindly at him as the two agents walked past.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully," My breath came out shakily as I tried to hold in the laugh at Dean's smart ass comment. We walked around the officer and to the Impala.

"Shotgun," I got in, grinning at Sam as he pouted and got in the back.

"I'm taller than you," He argued as Dean drove.

"I'm older than you," I shot back. The ride downtown was short, and before I knew it, we were walking down a James street in search of Amy.

"I'll bet you that's her," I looked up as Dean spoke, seeing the girl using a stapler to hang the paper on the wooden post. We nodded and walked over.

"You must be Amy," Dean didn't bother with the pleasantries as she turned to face us questioningly.

"Yeah," She spoke softly.

"Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean. This is Sammy," Sam gave him a dirty look. "And this is Melody, his aunt," I offered her a consoling smile, which she returned sadly.

"He never mentioned you to me," She told us skeptically.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess," Dean played it off as we followed her to the next post where she put up another flyer. "We're not around much. We're up in Modesto,"

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam cut in, and we stopped walking. A girl came up to Amy, touching her arm comfortingly.

"Hey, are you okay?" Amy's friend asked in concern.

"Yeah," Amy nodded bravely, smiling a clearly forced smile.

"Anyway, do you mind if we stop and ask you a few questions? There was a diner just up there," I remembered, also remembering we hadn't had lunch and both the boys and I were starving. Amy nodded and a few minutes later I was sitting in between Sam and Dean in a relatively large booth. It was still a bit cramped, but I'd live.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and he never did," Amy explained, staring at the table intently.

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam questioned, and Amy shook her head.

"No, nothing I can remember," She answered honestly.

"Here's the deal, ladies, the way Troy disappeared - something's not right," Dean told them as much as he could without lying. "So if you've heard anything…" They looked at each other hesitantly.

"What?" I asked them as the shifted in the booth. "Anything that you know might help find Troy," That pushed them over the edge.

"Well, it's just with all these guys going missing, people talk," Amy's friend spoke up, and I frowned, sensing a story.

"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean prompted simultaneously, causing me to glance at them in surprise.

"It's kind of a local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like decades ago," I looked up and met Dean's eyes. Seems like our kind of thing. "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up - well, they disappear forever."

"So," We all looked at Amy as she spoke, looking at us. "How long have you two been married?" Dean choked on the coffee he'd been drinking, and I stared at her for a minute in shock, only snapping out of it when Sam started laughing.

"We, um, we're not together," I told her, trying and failing at not being awkward or giving us away.

"No, she's a distant relative on his mothers side," Dean rambled, and Amy frowned. "I thought she was his aunt?"

"Divorced," I said and the same time Dean said, "Twice removed," I avoided looking at him altogether as Sam finally got his act together and rescued us.

"We really have to get going but thank you for your time," Sam put a twenty down on the table, and we got up and hurried out. Outside, Sam started laughing again, and I shoved him. "How long have you two been married?" He mocked, still laughing.

"Divorced?" Dean asked me incredulously, and I looked at him in disbelief.

"Twice removed?" I echoed his tone as we reached the Impala, "Do you even know what twice removed means?" Dean opened his mouth, and then paused. I rolled my eyes, "I thought so," I got into the back without even arguing this time.

Next stop was the library. So far it had been a couple of minutes with no luck. Dean typed in Female Murder Centennial Highway. No luck. I reached over to push his hands away and delete Centennial Highway and put in Jericho. Nothing.

"Let me try," Sam offered, and I backed away a little bit, but Dean swatted his hand.

"I got it," He snapped even though it was clear he had no idea what to type next.

"Just let him try, Dean," Dean's eyes bored into mine as we had a mini stare down. Finally, he sighed in defeat, looking annoyed and pushed his chair away so Sam could take his place. Sam glanced between us again, hiding a smile as he turned his attention to the screen.

"Your such a control freak," Dean muttered, punching Sam's arm. Sam didn't even seem to notice, and I pushed my chair to Sam's other side.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam checked.

"Yeah," Dean agreed boredly .

"Maybe it's not murder." Sam deleted Murder and typed in Suicide. One hit. "This was 1981," Sam read from the article. "Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumped off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river,"

"Wasn't that where Troy's car was found? That would also explain the five mile stretch of road," I double checked, and Dean nodded.

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked. Sam's face scrunched up as he read; bad news then. I leaned over his shoulder to scan the article.

"Yeah," I replied for him. "An hour before she calls 911 because her two kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both dead," I summarized, wincing at how horrible that must've been.

"'Our babies were gone and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch," Sam read.

"You were right same bridge," Dean glanced at me before rising from the chair.

It was already dark out when we reached the bridge, and a bad feeling was settling in my gut. Something was going to happen, and we weren't going to like it.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean mused as we looked over the railing and into the waters below.

"So do you think Dad would've been here?" Sam questioned, looking at us.

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," I nodded as Dean responded.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we keep digging until we find him. It might take awhile," Dean replied, and my heart sunk as I heard the double meaning in his voice. I turned to face them, but leaned my elbows on the railing, watching the two brothers uneasily.

"Dean," Sam glanced at me, and I nodded sadly. "I told you both, I've got to get back by-"

"Monday," Dean finished for him, meeting my eyes as I offered him a small, sorrowful smile. "Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot." I lifted my elbows off the rail and straightened as the tension became almost palpable. "You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?"

"Dean-" I started warningly. Dean looked at me, and his eyes lost a bit of their fire.

"Maybe, why not?" Sam interrupted me causing me to glare at him. The fire returned.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean knew the answer to that question, he was just trying to get under Sam's skin, and by the looks of it, it was working.

"No, and she's not ever going to know," Sam took a threatening step forward.

"Well, that's healthy," Dean quipped, and I glared at him. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

"Dean," I snapped coming to stand in front of Sammy, "That's enough,"

"No, it's fine," Sam snapped back in a voice that let me know it was very much not fine. "Who is that, exactly?"

"One of us," Dean told him, turning and heading back to the car. He could be so infuriating at times.

"No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life." Sam stormed in front of Dean, stopping him.

"Well, you have a responsibility," Dean was trying to get under Sam's skin. Trying to get him to see sense. Trying to get him to stay with us.

"To Dad and his crusade?" Sam asked rhetorically. I glanced back and forth between them, unsure, "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what mom looks like."

"Sammy, stop." I tried to sound firm, but when he looked at me, I saw all the pent up anger in his eyes.

"Please, Mel, you of all people know I'm right. You don't remember what your mom looks like either. Don't try to lie. I know you've thought about leaving everything behind. You should. You were smart enough in high school," I could see the tears behind Sam's eyes, but my heart froze at his words. I had never told anyone that but him. "You should have just got out while you had the chance-"

"Don't talk to her like that," Dean's voice held rage, but Sam was too engulfed in what he was saying to notice.

"Even if we do find the thing that killed our moms, their gone. And their not coming back," Dean grabbed Sam's collar and slammed him into the metal beam of the bridge. My eyes widened in surprise, and I grabbed Dean's wrist as he spoke in a gruff voice to Sammy.

"Don't talk about her like that," He looked at me then, and I was taken aback by the raw emotion in his eyes, "Don't talk about them like that," He corrected, turning back to Sammy.

"Dean, let him go," I spoke softly, keeping my hazel eyes locked on Dean's green ones as I gently pried his hands off of Sam's collar. Dean released him roughly, stepping back away from both of us and turning away.

"Mel-" Sam's voice held an apology, but I honestly didn't want to hear it.

"Are you alright?" I interrupted him, coldly.

"Yeah, but-"

"Guys," My eyes flicked to Dean's back, and then past him at the woman wearing a torn white dress standing on the railing. I took a few steps forward till I was standing next to Dean but instead of stopping, I sped up until I was running towards her, hearing the guys shout my name behind me. I reached the railing just as she let herself fall off the edge. There was nothing to see in the river, for the spirit had vanished. The guys reached me a moment later and joined me in looking down at the river.

"Where'd she go?" Sam asked, and I shook my head.

"I don't know," Dean answered for both of us. Suddenly, there was the revving of an engine, and my stomach dropped. We turned to face the Impala, squinting as the bright headlights shrouded us in brightness. "What the-"

"Dean, do you still have the keys?" I asked, confused for a moment. Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out the keys to his car. The tires squealed as the car began to move forward, towards us. I took a step back, not quite able to tear my eyes away from the possessed Impala. Then Dean's hand was on my arm, pulling me backward, and I was running in between the Sam and Dean.

"Come on, run! Let's go!" Sam shouted as we started running in earnest. It didn't matter. No matter how fast we ran we couldn't outrun a car. The squealing tires and revving engine was gaining on us as we sprinted.

"Over the bridge!" I yelled at them, "We have to jump!" We veered right, and I grabbed the bar with both hands and swung myself over it. Before I could make it very far, an arm wrapped around my waist securely, halting my fall, and my arms automatically wound themselves around his neck. I grabbed the edge of the bridge with one arm before freeing myself completely from Sam's grasp. I pulled myself up onto the edge of the bridge before looking back down, panic rising in my throat.

"Dean!" I called down worriedly in between heavy breaths.

"What?" He groaned from where he'd dragged himself up on shore. I could barely see him through all the mud and plants that were stuck to him.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked before I could draw another breath. He had climbed up alongside me and was looking down at Dean as well.

"I'm super," Dean answered in between pants, raising his hand in a ok signal. I let out a small laugh at the sarcastic note in his voice and then looked at Sam who was laughing a bit as well.

"Thanks, Sammy," I laughed putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing myself to my feet.

"Anytime," There was a comfortable pause. "And don't call me Sammy," He added as an afterthought. This was the Sammy I'd missed. The joking, geeky Sammy.

"How bad do you think he smells?" I laughed, and he joined me. Relief was rolling off of us in waves. Relief that Dean was alive. Relief that I was alive. Relief that Sammy was alive. And, of course, the Impala was fine.

"I'm almost scared to find out," He answered, making us laugh some more. We walked back to the car still laughing at how ridiculous the whole thing was. "It is ironic though," Sam pointed out as we leaned against the hood waiting for Dean to come back up. "Dean always takes such good care of this car," I laughed, nodding. "So," Sam began casually after a moment, which made me eye him suspiciously. "How long has that been going on?"

"What?" I asked dumbly, and he rolled his eyes.

"You know, you and Dean," This time I rolled my eyes to hide my discomfort at the topic.

"Nothing is going on," I told him, and he laughed at me, making me glare at him again. Finally, I sighed, "Is it that obvious?"

"A blind person could see it," Sam informed me, and I groaned making him laugh again.

"Glad to see you two are having fun," Dean grumbled, coming up from behind us. I turned to him and couldn't stop the small laugh from escaping me. He was covered head to toe in mud and glaring at Sammy and me.

"Is the car okay?" Sammy offered him weakly.

"Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now," Dean told us, the glare sliding away. "That Constance chick - what a bitch!" He yelled the last part as if she could hear him. Maybe she could.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." Sam stated the obvious as Dean leaned next to me on the hood and sighed in annoyance.

"So where's the trail go from here, genius?" Sam asked with a note of smart ass. Dean threw his hands in the air in defeat.

"We should go talk to the husband," I suggested.

"We'll go tomorrow," Dean told us. After that, we just sat in silence for a few minutes, soaking up what had happened. Sam and I glanced at each other, and I bit back a smile as he wrinkled his nose.

"Dean, you smell like a toilet," I couldn't hold back the small laugh, and Dean looked at him before turning his gaze on me. I shrugged.

"Well, he's not wrong," I held out my hand. "I'll drive," Dean's eyes snapped to my face in disbelief while I raised my eyebrows.

"No way in hell. I'm driving," He snapped, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Fine, you drive and get mud all over the steering wheel and driver's seat," Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with a retort. Finally he sighed, fishing the keys out of his pocket and handing them to me.

"What? How-" Sammy's joking protest was cut off with a look from Dean as he stalked over to the passenger's door. I got into the driver's seat and grinned. It had been too long since I'd driven; riding with Dean had it's downside. The drive to the nearest motel only took a couple of minutes, and it was spent mostly in silence.

"One room, please," Dean told the manager, an older guy who studied the three of us skeptically.

"You guys having a reunion or something?" He asked us. John.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked him.

"That other guy, Bert Aframian," The old man told us, looking up like we should know this. "He came in and bought out a room for the whole month." Dean looked at both of us and then back.

"Which room would that be?" I asked him, smiling briefly.

"Room ten," He told us, giving the credit card back.

"We'll just go check in with him," I smiled again before the three of us climbed the stairs and made our way to room number ten. The sun had just risen, so I had no trouble picking the lock and pushing the door open. I went through first, and then Sam grabbed Dean and hauled him inside as well. It looked as if someone had left without any warning whatsoever. If I hadn't known John, I would've said he was abducted. Dean picked up the half eaten cheeseburger and sniffed it, jerking his head away instantly at the rank smell before depositing it in the trash. I was more concerned with the pictures that had been hung on the walls of the room.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple of days at least," Dean told us as Sam crouched down to pick up a handful of the salt that lined almost everything in the room.

"Salt, cat's-eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in," I listened to Sam as I studied one particular picture on the wall. "What do you have?" Sam asked, coming over to the wall.

"Centennial Highway victims," Dean responded as I scanned the article. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, age, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" I felt Sam come up behind me, and tapped the article, a small smile starting on my face.

"They're cheaters," I answered, and Dean came up on my other side. "All of the men were cheaters. He figured it out,"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, and I pointed at the heading. Woman in White.

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white." Sam answered as Dean turned back to the victims.

"You sly dogs. All right so if we're dealing with a woman in white, dad would've found the corpse and destroyed it," I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek.

"Which means there has to be something else. Some other way to destroy her," I mused, nodding.

"Right, she might have another weakness," Sam backed me up.

"No, dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?" Dean came over to scan the article.

"No, not that I can tell," Sam replied, and I shook my head. I had a feeling she was cremated, which means there had to be another way to kill her.

"We should go ask the husband," I pointed to the picture of a grieving Joseph Welch.

"If he's still alive," Sam added.

"Alright, why don't you two see if you can find an address? I'm gonna get cleaned up," Dean told us, and I nodded without looking away from the wall.

"Hey, Dean," Sam started and I sensed a brotherly moment coming on. I learned at a very early age with these two when a brotherly moment was coming on. "What I said earlier about mom and dad - I'm sorry," Dean held up a hand to stop him.

"No chick-flick moments," Sam scoffed, looking away and then looking back.

"All right, Jerk,"

"Bitch," Dean returned, and I grinned at the two of them, shaking my head. Something caught Sam's eye, and he walked over to the mirror. I followed him, and my eyes widened when I saw the picture tucked into the mirror frame. I was becoming more and more worried about John Winchester. We hadn't always gotten along, and growing up with him and my dad had been rough especially after my dad- No. I wouldn't think about that right now. John had been something of a second father to me, and I was worried about him. in the picture, a younger John held a five-year-old Sammy while Dean and I sat next to them in the back of the pick up, squinting into the sun. Sammy checked his phone, and I saw the bright smile that lit up his face and couldn't help smiling too.

"Check them," I told him, "I'll find the address," Sam looked up from the phone in surprise.

"Are you sure? I can help-"

"Sammy, I'm trying to do something nice here. Just go," He chuckled a bit as I crossed the room to the computer, my fingers flying across the keys.

"Hey, Mel, I never apologized-"

"Don't," I held up a hand and smiled at him, "You don't need to apologize," He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off. "You were angry, Sammy. It's fine,"

"Fine," He repeated, smiling a bit.

"Good," I replied, my smile growing.

"Good," He went back to his messages, and I went back to finding the address, which didn't take long.

"Hey, I'm starving," Dean came out of the shower, and I tried not to look at him. I wasn't one for one night stands but I promised myself the next bar we stopped at I would. It was hard to hold down a boyfriend while you were getting dragged all over creation to fight God knows what. I'd only had five or six serious boyfriends over the years, and I found it easier to fight the feelings if I could bury them in a commitment instead of a one night stand. But that was just me. "I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at the diner down the street," Dean continued, snapping me out of my thoughts. "You coming?" He asked me, and I stood.

"Yeah, I'll meet you by the car," I told him, pulling on my socks. I had taken my boots and socks off the minute I'd sat down. "You want anything?" I asked Sam as Dean shut the door on his way out.

"No," Sam answered, glancing at the door.

"You sure?" I waved the credit card. "Lisa's buying," He grinned but shook his head anyway. I slipped on both my boots and stood just as Sam's cell rang. I frowned, glancing at him before shrugging and walking towards the door.

_Don't let Mel walk out that door._ I heard Dean's worried voice from the other side of the phone. My hand froze on the knob, and I had no intention of walking outside even before Sammy pulled me back from the door.

"She's not," I looked at him with confusion.

_Alright, Dude, Five-O. Take off._ My heart dropped as I heard that, but I looked at a worried Sammy with now false confusion.

"What about you?" Sam asked.

_Uh, they kind of spotted me. Go find Dad._ The line went dead.

"What's happening?" Sammy ignored me and instead went to the window. I followed him, peeking out to see Dean talking to two cops. I didn't have time to listen because the sheriff jerked his thumb in the direction of our room and two officers came in our direction. I met Dean's eyes briefly and saw concern flash across them before I let the curtain fall back into place and grabbed Sammy's arm, dragging him into the bathroom. We left through the window, replacing the screen just as the door was busted in.

"Dean's going to kill you," I told Sammy as we approached the house of Joseph Welch.

"It was an accident," Sammy protested, looking down at the broken cassette that he had sat on. I parked and turned off the ignition, looking over at Sammy. "Maybe he won't notice," He got out and threw it into the trash bin nearest us.

"It's Metallica; he'll notice," I told him, and Sam's pouting face came out making me laugh. After this I'd put in a fake 911 call to the police station. I'd thought about it a bit, but decided that that was the best way to go, less conspicuous. I knocked on the door.

"Hi, uh, are you Joseph Welch?" Sam asked the small frail looking farmer.

"Yeah," He answered, stepping out.

"We are here to ask you a few questions," Joseph looked back and forth between us in confusion.

"We're with the news," I clarified, and his face cleared a bit. John usually used that one when he was interviewing a family.

"Are you with that other man? Here a few days ago. Askin' questions," Sam handed him the picture he'd taken from the mirror in the hotel room.

"Is this him?" He asked, and Joseph looked up at us a little more trustingly.

"Yeah, he was older, but that's him. He came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter," He didn't sound so convinced.

"That's right. We're working on a story together," Sam lied easily.

"Well I don't know what the hell kind of story you're working on - the questions he asked me,"

"About your late wife, Constance," I interjected making him glance at me.

"He asked me where she was buried," He told us in absolute confusion as to why a news reporter would want to know that.

"And where is that again?" Sam asked none too subtly.

"What? I got to go through this twice?" His gaze turned harsher as his eyes flicked between us.

"Fact checking. We're terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but they refuse to let us broadcast unless we fact checked. Make sure we're accurate, you know,"

"In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge," He finally told us.

"And why did you move?" Sam questioned.

"I'm not gonna live in the house my children died," There was so much sorrow in his voice when he spoke that I felt bad about the whole thing.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Sammy asked. Smart. If he did, he could've been cheating on Constance with her.

"No way. Constance - she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I'd ever known," He smiled a bit when he talked about her. He really had loved her. Or he was a very good liar.

"You had a happy marriage, then?" His mouth twitched, and his eyes betrayed his uncertainty.

"Definitely," He answered after a moment's pause.

"Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time," Sam told him, smiling pleasantly. I also offered him a smile and headed back to the car.

"Mr. Welch," I called to his retreating form, stopping him. "Have you ever heard of a woman in white?" Sam's eyes widened in surprise as his eyes snapped to me, but I didn't look at him. I knew what I was doing.

"A what?" Joseph asked as he turned, scrunching his face in confusion.

"A woman in white? It's a ghost story," I explained, "Well, really more of a phenomenon," I corrected myself. "They're spirits?" I tried to ring a bell, but he had no idea what I was talking about. Not that I had really thought he would, "They've been sighted for hundreds of years,"

"Dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico," Sam continued, catching on as I walked back toward Mr. Welch. "Lately in Arizona, Indiana," I stopped in front of Mr. Welch, and Sam came to a stop next to me.

"Of course, all of these are different women, but all share the same story,"

"I don't much care for nonsense," The farmer told us with a dark look before turning and starting to walk away.

"You see when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them," I followed the man, knowing that the last part would piss him off. Sure enough, he stopped walking. "And these women, had bouts of temporary insanity, and murdered their children." The man turned to face me, his face twisted into a rage filled look of horror.

"Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again," Sam finished. The man's lips were trembling now as he tried to comprehend the horror of what we were telling him.

"You think… you think that has something to do with Constance, you smartass?" He glared up at Sam, but I stepped in front of him, earning the man's stormy glare.

"You tell us," He had to admit he cheated. That was the only way to know for sure that she was a woman in white.

"I mean maybe - maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would've killed her own children. Now you two get the hell out of here, and you don't come back," The man turned and walked away, and I tried to ignore the guilt that ate at me.

"Come on," I turned, pulling Sam's arm until he followed me on his own. "Let's get out of here," We stopped by the car and I pulled out my phone. "First things first," I had to spring Dean from jail. Well, Dean would spring Dean from jail; I'd just get rid of the guards. I dialed 911 and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello, this is the police department, what is your emergency?" The man asked in an almost excited voice.

"He-Hello?" I choked out, faking a sob. Sam rolled his eyes at my theatrics, "Y-You have t-to h-hurry,"

"Where are you, Miss?" The voice asked urgently, "Tell me where you are,"

"Whitefield R-road," I sniffled, "Please h-hurry. I-I h-heard sh-shot-ts," I hung up the phone before he could ask anymore questions. It had taken an hour to drive out to the farm, and we stopped for food on the way back, waiting for Dean to call us. It was eight thirty by the time Sammy drove through the dark back towards the motel, and I was hoping Dean had managed to get out. That's when my phone rang.

"Dean?" I tried to keep the relief out of my voice.

"Fake 911 phone call that Sammy or you?" Dean's smug voice came over the line and made me grin.

"You're welcome," I replied grinning over at Sam as I put it on speaker. "You're on speaker," I told him.

"We got to talk," Dean told us.

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful," Sam filled him in. "We are dealing with a woman in white,"

"And," I added, "She's buried behind their old house,"

"So, that would've been Dad's next stop," Sam grinned at what we'd found.

"Guys would you shut up for a second?"

"The only thing we can't figure out is why he wouldn't destroy the corpse right away," I frowned as I spoke, lost in thought for a moment.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean sounded certain.

"What? How do you know?" Sam asked at the same time I asked, "What? Why?"

"I've got his journal," Dean admitted after a moment of silence. There was another moment of silence before Sam spoke.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing,"

"Yeah, well, he did this time," Dean responded.

"What's it say?" I questioned, suddenly curious. Did it say anything about me? About my abilities.

"Same old ex-Marine crap," Dean sounded a bit bitter and a bit concerned. "When he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates," Sam nodded. Same old John.

"Where do they lead?" I asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Dean replied hesitantly. This wasn't right.

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam had a point. This wasn't like John to just vanish without a trace like this. "Dean, just be careful, okay?" That wasn't what I had been planning to say. I don't know what made me say it, but for a moment I just couldn't think of anything else that was more important. Before he could respond, however, I caught sight of the woman standing in the middle of the road. "Sammy!" I yelled, and he slammed on the breaks, bringing the car to a screeching stop, but not before we ran through the spirit. We were both breathing hard as the car stopped, I glanced up into the mirror and let out a small, startled scream as I saw the pale eyes staring back at me.

"Take me home," She demanded. I looked to Sam, who wasn't moving, and I focused on regaining my breath. "Take me home," She repeated more forcefully.

"No," Sam told her firmly. That wouldn't work. We had to do something she wouldn't expect.

"Sam, get out of the car," I ordered, opening the door partially only to have it close by a force much stronger than myself. The doors locked themselves, and I glanced at the mirror to see the ghost still there. The engine revved as the accelerator was pressed by an invisible foot and the gear was shifted. The car was driving itself as Sam and I desperately tried to get out; it was no use.

"Sammy, keep your hands on the wheel," I took charge. He glanced at me and did what he was told. "She's taking us to her old house," That much I was sure of, but beyond that it was a mystery. One that I needed to solve if I planned on getting both of us out alive. We stopped in front of the abandoned, decrepit structure.

"Don't do this," Sam tried to reason with the spirit.

"I can never go home," The woman, Constance, told us with a look of eternal sorrow on her face.

"Your scared to go home," Sam figured out, turning to look at her, but there was no one there. He met my eyes and then between us, the woman flickered into sight, crouching like an animal ready to pounce. She jumped at Sam, pinning him to the seat while I made to grab her, but my hand only passed through her. Damn I didn't have a gun on me. I needed to find something iron. I opened the glove compartment, rummaging around desperately as she pushed Sam down.

"Hold me," She whispered seductively to him; she was trying to get him to cheat on Jess. "I'm so cold,"

"You can't kill me," Sam played his last card. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been,"

"You will be," After this I was keeping an iron pole in our glove compartment. She grabbed his face and kissed him harshly as he tried desperately to pull away. I paused for a moment, letting everything sink in and then something came to me. Sam managed to grab the keys as she disappeared. He looked to me for a moment warily; I was breathing hard, and I probably looked a mess. Was she gone? Suddenly Sam's back arched, and he screamed in pain.

"Sammy!" I yelled, crawling over to him, hating how useless I was. I ripped open his jacket and saw the five holes being dug into his chest. The demon flickered into view. It was fingers. She was digging her freakin' fingers into Sam's chest. She pulsed in and out of view in time to his heartbeat, and that's when her words drifted back to me. _I can never go home._ That was it. I lunged past her for the ignition but jerked back as something fast moving cut my cheek.

"Shit," I cursed as I pressed myself back into the seat to avoid getting shot. The shooting stopped for a moment, but the ghost didn't. I slid over to Sam, not caring that I was basically on his lap, and revved the engine. "I'll take you home, bitch," I slammed my foot down on the accelerator, heading straight for the house. Dimly, I heard Dean shout my name, and I shut my eyes tightly as the car slammed into the wooden house. There are worst last things to hear than Dean shouting my name. Everything happened in a blur, and then we were stopped. Pain was shooting up my right wrist, and I think it bent back on the steering wheel when we crashed. My cut cheek was bleeding and a couple toes were sore, but other than that I wasn't too bad.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice sounding hoarse due to all the dust in the air.

"I've been better," Came his gravelly reply. I let out a short bark of laughter, "Next time," he panted a bit, "Your thinking of crashing the car," He groaned which made me glance at him in concern. "Just give me a fair warning,"

"Melody!" I heard Dean's yell and tried to answer, but all that came out were coughs. "Sam!"

"Here!" Sam managed to call back.

"You two okay?" Dean leaned down to look through the passenger's window. His gaze darkened and he hesitated as he looked at us, and I remember that I was still sitting on Sam's lap. Gingerly, I moved off of him and sat down heavily next to him with him weakly trying to help.

"I think," Sam responded, and I nodded with him. "Get Mel first," He grunted in pain as he sat up.

"Can you move?" Dean asked me, real concern lacing his voice as he yanked open the door.

"Yeah, I'm not bad," I brushed off the concern, making it to the door only to have Dean pick me up and carry me away from the car. "I'm fine," I insisted, really hoping I wasn't blushing like some schoolgirl. "Go get Sammy,"

"Can you stand?" He asked, ignoring my protests completely. I nodded, and, of course, as soon as he put me down I nearly fell over. I looked up into his eyes as he steadied me, trying to make him go check on Sam, I knew he was worried about him.

"I'm fine," I leaned on the hood. Dean fingered the bleeding cut on my cheek, his face darkening; I caught his hand in both of my smaller ones and met his eyes with mine. Dean was protective, and I loved that about him but right now he needed to check on Sam. "Go check on your brother," I told him gently, and he studied my face to make sure I was telling the truth before nodding and turning away.

"You doing alright there, Sammy?" Dean asked him, and I felt a load lift off my chest when I heard him answer.

"Yeah. Help me," Dean grabbed his hand, and I let out a breath, turning my head to study the room. That's when I saw Constance picking a picture frame off the floor.

"Uh, guys?" I swallowed hard, knowing we were in no position to fight her off. They both came to stand beside me and froze when they caught sight of her. She glared at us and sent a dresser our way, pinning the two boys to the wall. She started towards them, and I picked up Dean's fallen gun, stepping in front of them and ignoring the pain in my wrist.

"Mel!" Dean yelled, struggling to get out from behind the dresser. "What the hell are you doing? Run!" I ignored him, cocking the gun. Just then the lights began to flicker and Constance looked around in a fearful confusion. Then I heard the rushing of water and looked to the now wet stairs. Constance walked slowly to the bottom of the stairs, her whole frame flickering wildly. There, at the top of the stairs, stood two children with their hands clasped, dripping water all over the old, moldy carpeting.

"You've come home to us, mommy," The two children whispered eerily, disappearing and reappearing behind their mother. I took a small step back at the anguish that was etched into Constance's features. A mother's pain. The two kids hugged her around the waist, and she threw back her head and gave a piercing, agonized scream that made me take another step back. Her image flickered and began to dissolve, growing murky and shorter, then turning blood red, then black until finally sinking into the floor with a draining sound. I let out a sharp breath as she vanished; it was over. There was a crash beside me, and I turned to find Sam and Dean were out from behind the dresser.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean and Sam came to stand next to me and look down on the puddle that used to be a woman in white.

"That's why she could never go home," Sam pieced together.

"She was too scared to face them," I added, smiling a bit sadly down at the puddle.

"You found her weak spot. Nice work," Dean hit Sam in the chest, smiling fondly at his kid brother. Sam laughed a bit until it disappeared into a groan of pain.

"Yeah, Mel was the one with the plan. That's more than I can say for you," Sam turned as I followed Dean to the car. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey, saved you two, didn't I?" Dean glanced at the two of us, his eyes never really meeting mine. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I'll kill you,"

"What? Mel was driving," Sam turned to look at me and my mouth practically fell open.

"To save your ass, Sammy," I reminded him, laughing a bit as he grinned.

-2hrs later-

"Okay, here's where dad went. It's called Black Water Ridge, Colorado," I leaned my elbows on the seats in front of me as Dean glanced over from the drivers seat. Sam traced the line with his finger on the map, showing us.

"Sounds charming," Dean quipped, making me grin.

"How far?" I questioned.

"About 600 miles." Sam answered.

"If we shag ass, we can make it by morning," Dean told us, and the smile dropped off my face as Sam hesitated. Dean's face looked crestfallen for a brief moment before he covered it up, glancing back at the road. "You're not going," It wasn't a question, but I knew he was still hoping for an answer.

"The interview's in like 10 hours. I got to be there," Dean looked out the window, and I wanted so badly to comfort him but anything I did would only make it worse. Instead, I looked away from Dean to Sam, who looked torn yet determined at the same time. I tried to muster up a smile for him, but couldn't. "Mel - Dean - "

"Yeah," Dean interrupted him. "Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home," Sam flicked off the flashlight, and I retreated into the backseat again. An hour later, we were pulling up in front of Sam's house, and I got out as well, hugging him tightly.

"Take care of him," Sam whispered, and the ghost of a smile touched my lips. "He needs you,"

"I will," I promised. "Take care of yourself, Sammy," I stepped back and got into the passenger's seat, slamming the door behind me. Sam leaned down to talk to us.

"You'll call if you find him. Maybe I can meet up with you guys later, huh?" Sam offered.

"Yeah, okay," Dean tried to hide the pain in his voice, but both Sam and I heard it. Sam looked down and then turned and began walking up the steps. "Sam!" Dean called, putting his arm on the seat and leaning towards me. "You know, you and us, we made a hell of a team back there,"

"Yeah," Sam agreed sadly as Dean turned the keys in the ignition and started the car. We drove off, leaving Sam at his house like he wanted.

"You okay?" I asked after a moment, throwing a sideways glance at Dean.

"Was what he said true?" That threw me for a moment. "High school. Were you thinking of ditching out for college?" He looked at me carefully guarded anger in his eyes.

"Dean-"

"What the hell?" He snapped, my hesitation having been answer enough. "You just thought you'd just leave everybody behind? Live some stupid-"

"I didn't leave okay!" I was getting pissed that he would think he had the right to get angry at me. "It happened eight years ago! It doesn't matter now!"

"Did you ever think to tell me-" He began hotly.

"What would you have said? You couldn't have stopped me if I'd left!" I interrupted him angrily. "Is this about Sammy?" I was practically yelling now.

"Don't call him Sammy!" Dean snarled back. That stopped me cold. Never in twenty-six years had Dean ever told me not to call Sam Sammy. I scoffed, turning to look at the dashboard for a moment.

"Dean, slow down!" I realized we were speeding crazily. "Pull over!" I yelled and I nearly hit the dashboard as the brakes kicked in, and we skidded to a stop on the side of the road. Both of us were breathing shakily from the fight. "Dean," I began slowly, trying to take deep breaths to calm myself. "I get-"

"No, you don't," He interrupted me softly, looking away. "Look, Mel, there aren't a lot of people I care about," He stared straight ahead at the road as he talked, refusing to look at me. "My dad, Sammy, and you," He finally turned his head to study my face with an intensity that scared me a little. "And now my dad's vanished, Sammy's at college. That just leaves you," _He needs you. _Sam's words floated back to me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dean," I told him softly. Then a wave of nausea overtook me, making my head ache and my stomach churn. I doubled over, holding my head and felt Dean's hands grab my wrist. If he was saying something I couldn't hear him, I could only hear water running from a shower. It was as if something was tugging me back the way I'd come. "Sammy. Something's wrong," The nausea started to lessen until I could see and hear normally again. I was panting and shaking slightly, breathing unevenly

"Damn it. Melody!" Dean's voice was ragged with concern, and I blinked myself into the real world.

"I'm okay," I whispered, massaging my temples. "Sam's in trouble,"

"How bad?" Dean demanded, but I could only shake my head helplessly. Dean swore as we pulled to a stop in front of Sam's house to see it on fire. I was out before Dean had even stopped the car, sprinting towards the front. I kicked open the door and rushed into the bedroom, following my gut.

"Sammy!" I yelled as I saw him on the bed screaming at the ceiling. I swallowed hard when I saw Jess's once pretty face being consumed by fire. I snapped myself out of it, running to the bed and grabbing Sam's collar, hauling him off of it. He stumbled and fell to the floor, screaming her name heartbrokenly.

"Sam! Mel!" Dean entered the room, stopping briefly to stare horror struck at the open roof.

"Dean!" I shouted, trying to haul Sam up. "Sam, run!" I snapped at him, fear making my voice harsh. The next second Dean was next to us, grabbing Sam by his collar and pulling him roughly to his feet, pushing him towards the door.

"Jess! No!" He screamed up at the dying girl on the ceiling. I turned away from the roof and helped Dean push Sam through the door, shutting it quickly just as the room exploded. We managed to get him into the yard, him struggling every inch of the way.

"Sammy, stop!" I yelled, holding him down as he thrashed. "She's gone. Sammy, she's gone," As the minutes ticked by, the thrashing stopped. The fire department arrived, and Dean and I led Sam away from the house and back to the Impala.

"I'm going to see what they're saying," Dean spoke lowly to me as we watched Sam sitting on the hood of the Impala alone, looking broken.

"I'll talk to him," I answered, looking up at him sadly. Walking over to him cautiously, I sat on the hood of the Impala next to him, my heart breaking for him.

"She's gone," He whispered so quietly I could barely hear him. "It's my fault," I wrapped my arms around his shaking shoulders and he grabbed my arm in his hands tightly. After a couple of minutes, he stopped shaking and this time when he talked I heard him loud and clear. "I'm going to kill him," I released him, and he jumped off the hood, going around to the trunk and opening it to reveal the arsenal. He cocked a rifle as I came to stand next to him, and Dean stood behind us. He looked up at us, tear stains still visible down his cheeks.

"We got work to do," He told us, throwing the gun back in the trunk before looking at us with a new fire burning in his eyes. And somehow, I didn't like it.


	2. Wendigo

****Ok so second chapter and thanks so much to the people that reviewed! I love you guys, and if you have any criticism or advice or things you want to happen (I'm tired I can't think of the word) just review and let me know!****

_Wendigo_

"Ah!" I glanced backward to see Sam jerking awake from his nightmare. Sam had been having nightmares ever since Jess's death, but, because he was a Winchester, he refused to open up to anyone about them. My worried eyes met Dean's before I returning my gaze to Sammy, who was breathing hard and looking around wildly.

"You alright?" I was the first to speak to him, and his gaze snapped to me, his eyes unfeeling for a moment before they softened when the registered who I was.

"Yeah, I'm fine," He answered, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"Another nightmare?" I questioned, taking a wild-not-so-wild guess. He didn't answer and instead chose to clear his throat loudly and look out the window.

"Want to drive for a while?" Dean offered, and my eyes were drawn to him in surprise. I could count the times Dean had said those words on one hand. Maybe it would do Sam some good though. Get his mind off of Jess. Sam just stared between us for a moment before chuckling, looking away.

"Dean, in your whole life, you've never once asked me that," Sam pointed out, and I grinned at the truth behind that statement.

"Just thought you might want to. Never mind," Dean defended himself, returning his gaze to the road.

"It might help," I suggested, this time choosing to see him through the rear view mirror instead of turning. "Get your mind off of things," Sam met my eyes in the mirror, and I looked away, knowing he knew what I was getting at.

"Look, guys, you're worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay," Sammy replied, getting a bit annoyed with our concern. Dean made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat while I rolled my eyes at him. If there was one thing Sammy wasn't right now, it was okay. Who could be okay after witnessing their girlfriend die in front of their eyes? The same way his mom had no less! Clearly, he wasn't okay, and sooner or later it would boil over. "All right, pass me the map. Where are we?" I passed the map back to Sammy, and he unfolded it, successfully changing the subject.

"We are just outside of Grand Junction," Dean told him as he studied the map.

"You know what?" Dean and I already knew what was coming. We'd been over it before. "Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon," Dean and I exchanged a glance, and I shrugged, letting him take this one. I took the last one.

"Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you want to find the think that killed Jessica…" Dean trailed off, knowing he knew the rest.

"Got to find Dad first," Sam finished with cold determination hardening his words.

"It has to be connected, right?" I spoke up, making Dean glance at me and then back at the road. "John disappearing, and then this thing shows back up after what? 22 years?"

"It's no coincidence," Dean agreed, "Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do,"

"It's weird, though," I glanced in the rearview at Sam again as he spoke, "The coordinates he left us, this Black Water Ridge…" Sam shook his head.

"Yeah, what about it?" Dean questioned impatiently as Sam trailed off.

"There's nothing there," He finished, studying the map. "It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

An hour later Dean was pulling the car into a parking space (if it could be called that) in front of a small hiking information center that looked to be built out of wood. Apparently, Black Water Ridge was some sort of wildlife preserve where people could camp, fish or hunt.

"So Black Water Ridge is pretty remote. It's cut off by these canyons here," Sammy informed us, studying the small, 3D model that sat on a table in the middle of the room we were in. "Rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place." Sammy went on as I half paid attention while the other half focused on the pictures that were hung on the wall.

"Dude, check out the size of this friggin' bear," Dean marveled, staring at the one picture. I walked over to look at the bear that was easily one and a half people long.

"And," Sammy added, "A dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It's no nature hike, that's for sure," I wandered back over to the picture of the two men holding up fishing rods and smiling widely.

"You boys aren't planning to go out near Black Water Ridge, by any chance?" I turned to see the man in uniform, who most likely ran this information center. He was focused on the two boys and hadn't seen me yet.

"No, sir, we're majoring in environmental studies," He turned to look at me in mild surprise as I spoke up, smiling winningly. "We are from U.C. Boulder," Another smile. The man looked me up and down before grinning back at the two boys.

"And which one of you two does this fine young woman belong to?" Did I mention he was old enough to be my father?

"That'd be me, sir," Dean answered before I could reply, wrapping his arms around my waist and grinned. I covered up my surprise and amusement with another pretty smile. Sam cleared his throat, and I glanced at him, seeing him grinning a bit. First grin since Jess. I fought the urge to stick out my tongue at him, not caring how childish it would've looked.

"We're working on a paper." He turned back to the ranger in front of us. The man turned back to us, looking skeptical.

"Recycle, man," Dean attempted weakly.

"Bull," He called us out, and the smile froze on my face as my eyes flicked to Sammy, who looked nervous. Dean's arms tightened around my waist, letting me know he was nervous and making it hard to focus on the problem at hand all at once, "You're friends with that Hailey girl, right?"

"Yes," Dean answered after a moment of thought. "Yes, we are, Ranger…" He took a moment to read the tag, "Wilkinson," The ranger scoffed at us.

"Well, I will tell you exactly what I told he. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Black Water until the 24th. So, it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it? Tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine,"

"We will," Dean promised, "Well, that Hailey girl's quite a pistol, huh?" Dean took a stab in the dark.

"That is putting it mildly," The ranger agreed.

"Actually," My words stopped him as he turned to go back into his office, "It would help if we could show her a copy of that permit," I told him, smiling a bit.

"Yeah, you know, so she could see her brother's return date," Dean backed me up, his voice sounding above me. My heart was going a mile a minute, but I controlled myself as best I could. Dean sometimes flirted with me, and it always ended up meaning nothing. It was just Dean being Dean.

The ranger hesitated a moment before conceding, "Fine, wait here while I print a copy. It'll only take a moment." He left the room, but Dean didn't release my waist. I glanced around the room, and my eyes caught Sam, who was looking at me with his eyebrows raised. This time, I did stick my tongue out at him making him laugh. Sam always did bring out the kid in me. The ranger came back and handed Dean the piece of paper, smiling at us. Dean held it out in front of us, and I scanned it briefly before smiling at the ranger again.

"You satisfied, _babe_?" Dean smirked down at me, and I smiled again. Two could play at this game.

"Yes, Dean-o," I tilted my head upwards to place a light kiss on the corner of his jawline before slipping out of his grip and heading out the door, leaving Dean standing there.

"Shut up," I heard Dean from inside, and I grinned, knowing he was talking to Sammy. They both came out, and we began walking back to the car. Dean laughed, slapping the paper in his hands and glancing at us.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sammy asked him, and I tried to shove down the vile feeling that rose in my stomach. "Cause I don't think this fine, young woman-" I shoved him, and he cut off mid sentence.

"No, and what do you mean?" Dean questioned, his gaze hardening.

"The coordinates point to Black Water Ridge," Sam explained, getting serious and a bit angered. "So what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know," Dean answered sarcastically as we reached the car. "Maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it," I studied Sammy in surprise at his eagerness.

"What?" He finally asked in annoyance, his eyes flicking from me to Dean.

"Since when are you all 'shoot first, ask questions later' anyway?" Dean asked him, hiding his concern.

"Since now," Sammy replied indifferently, getting into the passenger's seat. Dean turned to me with a classic 'would you look at that' expression.

"Oh, really," He shrugged as he got into the drivers seat, and I got into the back. It took us all of two hours to get to Hailey's from Black Water Ridge and by the time I was in desperate need to stretch my legs.

"You must be Hailey Collins," Dean spoke as she opened the door, but left the screen door shut. "I'm Dean, this is Melody, and this is Sam. We're ranger's with the park service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask you some questions about your brother, Tommy."

"Let me see some I.D." She didn't trust us. I looked to Dean who rummaged through his pockets for a minute before smiling and holding his card up to the screen.

"There you go," He told her as she scrutinized the false I.D. Finally, Dean took away the card, and, with one last mistrusting look she caved.

"Come on in," She opened the screen door for us.

"Thanks," Dean answered as the three of us followed her inside.

"That yours?" Hailey asked, catching sight of the Impala. She smiled a bit at him as he looked impressed she noticed.

"Yeah," He replied with more than a hint of pride in his voice.

"Nice car," Was all she said as she turned and led us through the house. Dean walked in front of us, looking back to give us a look, flicking his eyes in Hailey's direction and back. I kept my face stoic as I swallowed the jealousy that rose in my stomach. Focus on the case. If that was what this was.

"So, if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sammy questioned, thankfully cutting right to the chase.

"He checks in every day by cell," Hailey explained while bringing her little brother his food. "He emails photos, stupid little videos. But we haven't heard anything for three days now,"

"Well, maybe he can't get cell reception," Sammy suggested reasonably, but Hailey just shook her head.

"He's got a satellite phone, too," She told us, frowning in concern.

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in," Dean offered, making the little brother slam his fork and knife down in anger.

"He wouldn't do that," He spoke with conviction, leaving no room for further contemplation.

"Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me," Hailey explained. "We all keep pretty close tabs on each other," Sounds like another family I know.

"You said he sent you pictures?" I asked her, and she nodded, still looking concerned. "Can we see them?" We followed her as she walked over to the computer and pulled up his videos, flipping through until finally she landed on one.

"Hey, Hailey. Day six. We're still out near Black Water Ridge," Tommy spoke from the video diary, "We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay?" Something ran behind the tent for a split second, and I felt a tug in my gut. It had been a shadow, but it was something.

"Don't worry. We're heading out to Black Water Ridge first thing," Dean tried to comfort Hailey.

"Then maybe I'll see you there," My eyes shot to her from where they had been studying Tommy's pictures and videos. I met Dean's eyes and raised my eyebrows at him. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so I hired a guide. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself." She spoke determinedly, meaning there was no way we could deter her.

"I think I know how you feel," Dean told her, and I tried to ignore them.

"Hey, you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked her, and she shrugged.

"Sure," She replied nonchalantly, turning her gaze to Sam.

-4 hours later-

"So, Black Water Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Dean and I sat on either side of Sam as he took out a folder he'd put together. "Local campers mostly - but, still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found."

"Any before that?" Dean questioned as I took a sip of beer before glancing back at the files.

"Yeah, in 1982, eight different people - all vanished in the same year," He handed me a newspaper article that read GRIZZLY BEAR STRIKES AGAIN. "Authorities said it was a grizzly attack, and, again, in 1959, and again, before that, in 1936. Every 23 years, just like clockwork." He handed me his laptop.

"Okay, watch this," I opened the laptop and pulled up the videos. "So Sammy downloaded that guy Tommy's video onto the laptop. And look at this." I clicked the arrow key three times, going through the three frames before looking up at Dean and Sam.

"Do it again," Dean asked. I clicked through the frames a second time, slower.

"Three frames. That would only be a fraction of a second, which means whatever we're dealing with, it moves fast," I deduced, glancing at them again to see Dean grinning. He hit Sammy in the chest and then winked at me.

"See? I told you something weird was going on," Dean gloated, still grinning.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, shutting the laptop, "I got one more thing. In '59, one camper survived the supposed grizzly attack - just a kid - barely crawled out of the woods alive," Dean just nodded thoughtfully.

"There a name?" He questioned.

"Yeah, come on," Sam was up and halfway out of the bar before either of us could blink. Dean looked at me in surprise, and I shrugged, half smiling before hurrying after him. He filled us in during the ten minutes it took to reach him.

"Look, Ranger, I don't know why you're asking me about this," The man told us as he let us in to his small home, "It's public record. I was a kid," He put a cigarette in his mouth as he talked in a gravelly voice, "My parents got mauled by a -"

"Grizzly?" Sam finished skeptically, and the man stopped, a haunted look in his eye.

"That's what attacked them?" I questioned, disbelief lining my words, trying to make the man open up. He took a long drag from the cigarette before nodding uncertainly.

"What about the other people that went missing that year - those bear attacks, too?" Dean asked him, and he looked away from us.

"What about all the people that went missing this year?" I followed up. "Still grizzlies?"

"If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it," Dean told him, and the man turned to us, dismally void of hope. He just let out a deep chuckle that might have been a cough.

"I seriously doubt that," He told us, "Anyways, I don't see the difference it would make," He sat down slowly in his chair, "You wouldn't believe me. Nobody ever did,"

"Mr. Shaw," Sammy began empathetically, sitting down next to the broken man, "What did you see?"

"Nothing," He said, shaking his head as the horror replayed itself in front of him. "It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar… like no man or animal I ever heard,"

"It came at night," Sammy double-checked and the man nodded. "Got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our _cabin_," He stressed the word, his eyes widened a bit. "I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door - it unlocked it," I tilted my head back a bit, absorbing this. Running through the things it could've been. "Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up until I heard my parents screaming."

"It killed them?" Sammy asked him.

"Dragged them off into the night," Mr. Shaw answered, shaking his head. "Why it left me alive - I've been asking myself that ever since. It did leave me this though," He moved his shirt out of the way to reveal ropey scars in the shape of claws. I looked away from the scars and the hurt man, and instead chose to study my hands intently. "There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw," I spoke after a moment, turning to Dean. "We'd better be going now." I followed Dean out the door with Sam behind us.

"Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors if they want to get in. They just go through the walls," Dean pointed out as soon as we were out of earshot.

"So it's probably something else - something corporeal," Sam nodded as we walked, and I grinned at the word.

"'Corporeal'? Excuse me, Professor," Dean quipped, and I let out a breathy laugh. Sammy glared at us.

"Shut up. So, what do you two think?" He asked us.

"The claws - the speed that it moves - it could be a skin walker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal, which means we can kill it," We made it to the Impala and went around to the back. Dean propped up the false bottom with a shotgun before throwing down a green duffle and checking the weapons.

"We can't let that Hailey girl go out there by herself," I nodded at Sammy's point. She would just get herself killed.

"Oh, yeah, what are we gonna tell her - she can't go into the woods because of a big, scary monster?" Dean mocked. Sam opened his mouth to reply, but I beat him to it.

"No, but I'm with Sammy. We've got to tell her something," I shoved the bullets into the shotgun before cocking it.

"Her brother's missing," Dean stressed, looking back and forth between us, "He's her family, she's not just gonna sit this one out. No, we go with her, we protect her. And we keep our eyes peeled for out fuzzy predator friend," Dean told us, checking the pistol.

"So finding Dad's not enough?" Sam asked angrily as Dean took the duffel. "Now we got to babysit, too?" Since when was Sam the headstrong one? Dean and I just looked at him, and he rolled his eyes, "What?"

"Nothing," Dean shrugged it off, throwing the duffel at him harder than necessary and getting into the drivers seat. The motel was only a couple minutes away, but the drive was spent in a thick silence. I barely managed to brush my teeth before I crashed on one of the queen sized beds. The next thing I knew, I was blinking awake with someone calling my name.

"Mel, get up," I groaned and rolled over, or tried to. I realized that my head was resting on a muscular bicep. Dean's. I turned my head to confirm what I suspected and came nose to nose with a sleeping Dean, who had his other arm thrown lazily over his stomach so his hand rested on my waist. I smiled sleepily; it was really comfortable. I needed to get up, but my body rebelled against what my mind shouted at me. "Mel," Came Sammy's amused hiss.

"I'm up," I moaned, removing Dean's hand from my waist and throwing my legs over the bed, sitting up. I squinted at the clock and let out another groan, looking up tiredly at Sammy, who probably hadn't even slept. For a moment, I was torn between complaining about my three hours of sleep and worrying about Sammy not sleeping at all. Finally, I stood, sighing, "Tell me you at least tried to sleep," Sammy looked guilty for a moment, which made me sigh again, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Don't call me Sammy," He avoided the subject. I just shook my head, smiling slightly at him.

"I don't know if you've caught on, Sammy, but no matter how many times you say that, we aren't going to listen," Instead of being angry, Sam smiled slightly. I just shook my head again, heading towards the bathroom, "I'm going to shower," I took a change of clothes with me. "And Sammy," I added, turning to face him as I stood by the bathroom door, "Try to at least get a couple minutes of sleep while I'm in there," He just looked guilty again, and I closed the door and locked it.

The water felt amazing as I just stood there for a few minutes, soaking in the warmth and letting it wash away the dirt and grime. If I ever got out of this life, the first thing I would do was take a ten hour bath and relax. Or maybe a spa day. That sounded amazing. A smile twitched at my lips at my wishful thinking. I would never leave the life. Even if I did have an opportunity, I could never leave Dean. I would miss him too much. The way he made dumb smartass comments about everything. He always hid his feelings behind a mask, but once you saw past it… I shook my head to rid myself of any thoughts of Dean.

As I shampooed and conditioned my hair, my mind floated to someone I'd tried not to think about. My sister. Jez was two years older than me. Well, Jezebel, Jez for short. Jezzy when she got annoying. Wow, I hadn't seen her in… was it ten months now? Dean had been pissed with me last time I'd visited her. She had begged me not to tell anyone where she was living now, or what she was doing. She had a family now. She had left the life when Dad died, which was… seven years ago. She'd married at twenty-three to a man, Dustin Walker, and had two children. They were beautiful children, boy and a girl. I loved them almost as much as her, even though I didn't visit as much as I wanted. She'd restricted me to only once a year, for she was fearful of me being followed by something horrible. That was her biggest fear. That was any ex-hunters' biggest fear. Being followed by something that wanted revenge.

I washed my face thoroughly before stepping out of the shower and drying myself quickly. I slipped on a pair of jean shorts that fit comfortably, since I figured we'd probably be doing a lot of hiking, and a tank top that didn't show too much. After that I slipped on a short sleeved white covering that went down to just past my butt. I blow-dried my soaking hair until it was almost bone dry and blew back a bit, and then I swept it up into a ponytail to keep it out of my face, even though a few annoyingly stubborn strands refused to cooperate. I figured since it would be pretty hot out I wouldn't overdo it with the makeup and only put on some lipgloss, mascara and a bit of eyeliner before stuffing everything back into my bag and walking out of the bathroom to find the boys both asleep. I smiled softly at them. My family. The smile quickly disappeared when I saw Sammy's face contort, and he cried out.

"Sam!" I shook him, which did nothing except agitate him more. "Sammy, wake up!" "Jess!" He shot up, almost hitting his head into mine. He looked around wildly, just like he had in the car, until his gaze focused on me. "Sorry," I frowned at him.

"Don't apologize, Sammy," I sighed, sitting next to him on the bed. "Talk to me," I spoke the words firmly, like I was giving an order. He just shook his head.

"There's nothing to talk about," He told me, "She's dead. And I can't close my eyes without seeing her,"

"Sammy, that's normal, you're grieving," He just shook his head again, and I could tell there was something else that was tearing him up that he wouldn't tell me.

"You should wake Dean," He spoke before I could ask him anything else. "We should be leaving soon," He stood and walked into the shower as I watched him go with a heavy heart.

"Dean," I nudged him, and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. I nearly laughed at his childish tiredness. It was adorable. "Dean, come on, we've got go," I shook harder him this time, and he grumbled as he blinked awake and looked at me and then at the clock. He let out another groan as he stood, and mumbled something about the job and waking up early before going into the bathroom where Sammy was brushing his teeth. I rolled my eyes affectionately at the pair of them.

In a couple minutes we were on the road, and since the park was so far away, it was around 10 when we got there. We were driving down the dirt path when I heard the voices arguing. Something about Ben coming with them. Hailey and what I assumed was the guide must be the ones arguing. Dean pulled in and we saw them in front of us, looking quizzical and disbelieving at the same time. I opened the door and stepped out, my mouth twitching as I saw the three staring at us.

"You guys got room for two more?" Dean questioned with an infuriating grin on his face.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Hailey asked in genuine surprise. I grabbed the duffel bag and handed it to Sammy, who threw it over his shoulder as we walked behind Dean.

"Who are these guys?" The man behind Hailey asked gruffly. I glanced at him to find him looking me up and down appreciatively making my mouth twitched up in a small smile.

"Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Hailey told him by way of introduction.

"You three are rangers?" The guide asked disbelievingly.

"That's right," Dean answered confidently as I followed Sammy up to their car.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Hailey criticized, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Against my will, I found myself actually liking Hailey.

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," The laugh I'd been holding back died in my throat when Dean replied. I turned away from the two, and instead focused on the rest of my company. There was the guide, who looked about ten to fifteen years older than me, and who was still looking me up and down. Dean came to stand next to me before turning back to look at the guide.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" The guide asked angrily as he focused on Dean. "It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt." "Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be," Dean told him with a darker undertone to his words and a small smirk playing at his lips. "We just want to help them find their brother. That's all," He added lightly. On that note, we started our hike of horrors.

"Roy," I started after about an hour of on and off silence. "You said you did a little hunting," I was walking behind Roy with Dean behind me and then Hailey, Ben, and Sammy. Best to know who we were working with - well protecting - right?

"Yeah, more than a little," Roy's tone held a trace of boasting as he replied. "You ever hunt?"

"A little," I replied evenly, and then a smile toyed at my lips as I added, "My dad used to take me,"

"So, Roy," Dean broke in before he could respond, "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?" Roy didn't even glance back at Dean's amused tone.

"Mostly buck. Sometimes bear," He replied smoothly, making me grin.

"Ever see anything big?" I questioned, and Roy glanced back at me as he stopped, "Like the picture in the information cabin?" I covered easily, seeing the mistrust and wariness clear a bit from his eyes.

"I stick to buck for the most part," He answered as Dean came up beside us. "But if I stumble upon the occasional bear," He shrugged. Suddenly, I frowned as I heard a metallic sound. It was faint, but it was definitely there.

"Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" If I wasn't so caught up in the noise I would've glared at him for being an ass.

"Dean, stop!" The words flew from my lips probably louder than necessary, but all of a sudden, I was afraid for him. He jerked around to look at me in genuine surprise, and then glanced to Roy and back to me. An almost hurt expression crossed his face, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was before he turned back and kept walking. "Dean-" Roy grabbed his jacket and hauled him back towards us, stepping closer to him as he did so.

"Whatcha doin', Roy?" Dean questioned in a low, threatening voice, his jaw clenching like it does when he's suppressing anger. In answer, and ignoring the threat, Roy picked a rather long stick off of the ground and hit the ground in front of Dean, setting off the bear trap with a sharp snap and making both Hailey and I jump.

"You should listen to the girl," Roy glanced back at me with an mildly impressed look. "She knows what she's doing. And you should watch your step… Ranger," He added the last word mockingly, Dean smiled tightly to hide the anger he felt.

"It's a bear trap," He smartassed as I walked past, pointing to the closed trap. I nodded with my eyebrows raised, fighting the smile until I turned away from him. He was being an ass, and he did kinda deserve it. I didn't have to turn around to know Sammy was smiling a bit as well.

"So, you ready to tell me who you three really are?" Roy asked me as Dean dropped back and began talking to Hailey. I didn't want to know what they were saying; I didn't want to hear Dean flirting with someone else in his long line of women.

"That depends what you'll do with the information," Roy glanced at me, studying me for a moment before turning back to the woods.

"Well, no offense, but the next time you want to pass as rangers, you might not want to bring your boyfriend along," I stiffened as he said that.

"Dean isn't my boyfriend," He glanced at me again and shook his head.

"Could've fooled me," He told me. What was that supposed to mean? "The silent one's not so bad,"

"They're practically family," I replied stiffly, getting a bit defensive of the two. "We grew up together. Dean can be… well, Dean, but he's good in a tight situation. And Sammy's smart as hell," I defended them, and Roy looked at me full on this time.

"I meant no offense, Miss," He replied evenly as ever.

"Melody," I broke the tense silence after a moment causing him to look over at me in confusion. "My name. It's Melody,"

"Roy," His lips pulled up into the first genuine smile I'd seen from him since this hike started. I held out my hand without breaking stride, and he shook it.

"I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat," Dean's words drifted towards me against my will. I winced a bit as my hearing strained to catch what he was saying. Sometimes it would come naturally, and sometimes it would feel like all hell was let loose in my head.

"Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?" Hailey demanded. How much did Dean tell her?

"Well, I'm telling you now," Dean defended, "Besides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman… well, besides Mel,"

"She your girlfriend?" Why did everyone think that?

"Who Mel?" Dean's flippant response was almost as bad as if he'd just smacked me across the face, "Nah, we're…friends,"

"Really?" Hailey asked with her usual note of disbelief, but I didn't bother to hear the rest.

"So, you trust me enough to tell me who you really are?" Roy's words brought me back, and I blinked away their conversation, my hearing returning to normal.

"Hunters," A smile twitched at my lips. "Of sorts," Sammy was behind me now, and Dean had dropped back to the end.

"That's all you're gonna give me?" He stopped, making the rest of us stop with him. "We're here!" He announced loudly, so the rest could hear. "This is it - Black Water Ridge."

"What coordinates are we at?" Sam demanded, without so much as a smile at the news. Roy drew a GPS out of his coat and fiddled with it for a moment.

"35 and minus 111," He finally announced, and I let out a breath, going over to stand by Sam as Dean joined us.

"You hear that?" Dean asked, and I bit my lip as Sam nodded.

"Yeah, not even crickets," Sam mused. I didn't say anything, but it was true. Oddly quiet.

"I'm gonna go look around," Roy spoke from behind us, and we turned to look at him.

"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam told him, making him scoff. Of course he wasn't going to listen, he was a seasoned hunter and a guide, he knew these woods right?

"That's sweet," He mocked, "Don't worry about me,"

"I'll go with you," I broke in before Dean, Sam, or Roy could make the situation more tense.

"No," Everyone looked at Dean, and I tried to keep a deadpanned face on. He didn't care about me like that. He had already said so. It didn't matter. "Sammy'll go," He volunteered his brother, and I rolled my eyes, taking off after Roy. We'd been walking for a couple of minutes when I began to feel a throbbing in my head.

"Ah! Stay away! Help! Oh, God! Stay away!" Someone was screaming, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. There were heavy footsteps coming from my right, something was coming, and it was big. I felt waves of fear roll over my being as the footsteps grew louder and terror as the beast came into sight, but I couldn't see the thing. There was a terrible crunching sound, and, somehow, I knew it was that thing feeding. Feeding off a person. My hearing snapped back to me like a rubber band and the pain dulled to a faint throb in the back of my head. I opened my eyes to find I was leaning against a tree, breathing hard with my hands pressed over my ears.

"Hey, are you okay?" Roy's concerned voice flooded my brain as I slowly took my hands away from my ears. I nodded as he handed me a water bottle, and I drank thirstily. That had been the worst one yet, and I knew what it was. I didn't know how I knew, I just did. "Do you get migraines often?" I shook my head.

"No, that would be one of the first times," I only half lied. "Must be the heat," He nodded sympathetically.

"The heat can do that to you if you don't drink enough water…" He trailed off, looking at something over my shoulder. I frowned, glancing back to see the glint that he saw.

"What is that?" I started off towards it, ignoring his shouts. I stepped into a small clearing and looked around in surprise at the torn up campsite. Well, I think I found where they were taken from. I heard the crash of Roy coming into the clearing after me, and he sucked in a breath.

"Hailey!" He called, and I winced at the racket he was making, knowing the beast could be anywhere. I walked towards the remainder of the tent as the rest of the party came into the clearing, stopping short to take in the sight.

"Oh, my God," Was all Hailey could say as she saw the wreckage.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy told her as I stepped away from the tent and towards the party.

"I need to talk to you," I muttered, pulling Dean's arm until we were out of hearing range of the others. "Whatever it is is storing them - or was. It just killed one."

"How do you know?" He asked after a moment. His face was hard and shut off, which didn't make me feel any better at all.

"I just know," I didn't look at him as I heard his sharp intake of breath. "One of them is still alive. I could…hear him," Dean didn't reply. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and actually became angry. "Am I a freak?" I demanded, staring straight into his pained green eyes.

"Hey," His eyes hardened at my question, and he looked determined and pissed at the same time, grabbing my face in his hands. "You're not a freak," His intensity almost frightened me. "We're going to figure this out. I promise. All right?"

"Okay," I nodded, determined now. I hated looking helpless. "I'm fine," I added, noticing the concern in his expression. "Really," I was suddenly aware of how close we were, and he still had his hands on either side of my face. His grip loosened and his thumb ran gently over my cheek where the cut from our last hunt was still healing. I knew I should pull away, do something, but his eyes held me prisoner. "We should call Sammy," It took everything I had to conjure up those four words. He blinked and pulled away from me quickly, taking a few steps back.

"Sammy!" He called, his voice hard, finally tearing his gaze away from mine and sitting down on a log. I chose to lean against a tree instead of sitting next to him like I usually would've done. Sam came down and crouched in between us, "The bodies were dragged from the campsite, but here, the tracks just vanish. It's weird," He pointed to the tracks in the dirt. "I'll tell you what, it's no skinwalker or black dog," He got up and walked back to camp without so much as glancing my way.

"What happened with you two?" Sam asked, glancing at me.

"Nothing," I answered easily. Nothing did happen, right? "Why would you even ask that?" I pushed off the tree and walked past him and back to camp.

"Help!" A man's voice yelled, and my head snapped up. Dean grabbed his gun and cocked it as he ran after Roy. I sprinted after the pair as the man continued shouting, "Please! Somebody help me!" We stopped in a small clearing, looking around, but there was no one there. I frowned. Something wasn't right about this whole thing.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Hailey asked in confusion.

"Sammy?" I whispered, glancing around the empty forest. "If we're here who's with our stuff?" He seemed to have reached the same conclusion because he called to the others.

"Everyone back to camp!" We all ran back to the campsite, but it was too late. Everything was gone.

"Our packs!" Hailey cried in dismay.

"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone," Roy grumbled, kneeling down where our stuff used to be.

"What the hell's going on?" Hailey demanded angrily.

"It's smart," Sammy explained to them. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help,"

"You mean someone - some nut job out there just stole our gear?" I walked over to the edge of the camp, trying to hear something that could help us, but it was all quiet.

"I need to speak with you two… in private," I nearly jumped as Sam came up behind us. I hadn't even realized Dean was there. We followed Sam a ways into the woods.

"Let me see Dad's journal," Sam requested, holding out his hand for the book. Dean handed over the book, glancing back at camp uncertainly as Sam flipped through. "All right," He found the right page and showed us. "Check that out," I frowned when I saw what was written on the page.

"Come on, Man," Dean scoffed, "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west,"

"It all fits, though," I pointed out, "The claws, the human voice imitation, the way it stores it's victims before eating them," I looked at Dean, who was beginning to believe us.

"Great," He held up the gun. "Well, then, this is useless," Sam shoved the journal into Dean's chest, stalking past him. He paused and turned for a moment.

"We got to get these people to safety," He left no room for argument as he walked back into camp. "All right, listen up, it's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated."

"What?" Hailey snapped, annoyed. I didn't blame her. A lot of things were going on right now that she had no clue about, and it would probably have pissed me off too.

"Kid, don't worry whatever's out there, I think I can handle it," Roy shrugged off his concern.

"It's not me I'm worried about," Sam replied, "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now," Sammy ordered us. I glanced between him and Roy uneasily.

"One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to be giving anybody orders," Roy spit at him angrily.

"Relax," Beside me, Dean tried to control the situation, and, for a second, it almost worked.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right?" Sammy was really not helping this situation. "I'm trying to protect you,"

"You protect me?" Roy snarled incredulously as he stormed up to Sam. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night,"

"Yeah?" Sam sneered at him, leaning closer and utilizing his height advantage, "It's a damn-near-perfect hunter. It's smarter than you," Roy turned to fix me with a disbelieving stare before turning back to Sam. "And it's going to hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here,"

"Sammy!" I snapped at him, walking over to the two men.

"You know you're crazy, right?" Roy laughed in Sam's face, which pushed him over the edge.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, near yelling now. "You ever hunt a W-" Dean shoved him, and I grabbed his arm, pulling him further away from Roy.

"Chill out," Dean ordered, pushing Sammy backwards with one hand.

"Stop it. Everybody just stop." Hailey demanded, facing us. "Look, Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him," Dean turned back to us, and I shrugged. What choice did we have?

"It's getting late," Dean finally conceded, taking charge. "This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it - not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves,"

Sam, Dean, and I spent the next three hours until it got dark etching Anasazi symbols into the dirt around the campsite, making it nearly impossible for the Wendigo to get in.

"We shouldn't have even let them come," Sam grumbled as he finished another one.

"What choice did we have? As much as I hate it we can't control other people," He glanced at me and then into the forest. He sat down, and I crossed over the campsite to where Dean was arguing with Roy.

"Can I borrow him for a minute," I smiled at the three for a minute as I pulled Dean away. "You need to talk to your brother," I knew enough to know when Sammy needed his brother. Dean glanced over at him and then back at me. "He needs you,"

"I'm not good at…" He trailed off when he saw my no bullshit expression. He sighed. "I tried asking him, but all he says is 'I'm fine',"

"Well, then, go ask him again. You're his brother, Dean," Dean studied me for a moment before walking over to Sam and taking a seat next to him. I sat down next Hailey and watched as Dean knelt in front of Sam, and they talked.

"He's all yours, you know," It took me a moment to register Hailey was talking to me. I just looked at her blankly, and she smiled, shaking her head, "Dean, he's not interested in me,"

"What are you talking about?" I asked her in surprise, "Of course he is,"

"Not really," She looked back to where the brothers were talking and then at me, "Open your eyes, he loves you," I felt my eyebrows raise, and my eyes widen a bit before I laughed, shaking my head. I looked back at the boys to see they were both looking at me but turned away when they met my eyes. "Why do you think he was so defensive earlier with Roy?"

"Because sometimes Dean can be a bit of an ass?" I guessed shrugging. She laughed, and I smiled, not able to resist glancing back at where he was still talking to Sammy. She drew a breath to reply, but was interrupted by a scream.

"Help!" Dean cocked his gun, holding it at the ready as the screams continued. "Help me!"

"It's trying to draw us out. Just stay cool. Stay put." Dean remained calm as the screaming continued.

"Inside the magic circle?" Was Roy's sarcastic quip. Dean turned a glare on him as the rest of us kept our eyes on the forest. The man's next scream morphed into an angry growl. "Okay, that's no grizzly," Roy admitted. I picked up my gun from where it lay besides the fire and cocked it, standing protectively in front of Hailey and Ben, who were cowering on the ground. Roy shot, and the trees rustled. He shot again. And again and there was a massive roar. "I hit it!" He announced excitedly, running into the woods without a second thought.

"Roy! No, don't-" I rushed after him, passing the circle without hesitation.

"Mel!" I heard Dean yell my name from behind me, but I didn't stop.

"It's over here!" He yelled gleefully, excited even. "It's in the trees!" I could see him in front of me, and I urged my feet to move faster.

"Roy get away-" My warning was swallowed up by my scream as hands reached down and snapped Roy's neck, pulling him into the tree. I braked so hard that I fell backwards on my butt, scrambling back.

"Mel! Where are you?" I heard Dean's voice but all I could think about was the sickening crunch his neck had made when those huge, pale hands had wrung it. "Melody!" I regained my feet and was sprinting back the way I'd come and ran smack into Dean. "Melody! What the hell!" Dean's initial relief turned into anger. He grabbed my face, studying me, "Are you all right? What happened?"

"Roy's dead," I spoke with surprising detachment. "It killed him," Dean looked back into the woods and swallowed hard before pulling me behind him.

"We should get back to the others," He told us.

No one got much sleep that night. I ended up sitting besides Sammy, who was fingering John's journal without actually opening it.

"We're going to find him, you know," I pumped confidence into my voice as I spoke. He let out a half laugh at my words, looking down at me.

"How are you so sure?" I grinned, looking around the forest and then back at him.

"Because even if we weren't looking, eventually John would find us," I grinned again, "It's like you said, Sammy, he always stumbles in eventually." Sam just glared down at the journal.

"Well, what if this time it's different? What if this time, he just vanishes," Sam looked at me, desperate for reassurance.

"It's not," I reassured him. "You and Dean are his boys. His family. His life. He'd do anything for you," Sammy didn't say anything, and I stood, brushing myself off and giving him a hand up."We'd better get back,"

"So, we've got half a chance in the daylight, and I, for one, want to kill the evil son of a bitch," I grinned at Sammy's words as the rest of our party stood.

"Well, Hell," Dean grinned, glancing at me, "You know I'm in," We gathered around Sammy as he opened John's journal and flipped through it until he found the right page.

"Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means 'evil that devours'," Sam began, telling the tale from the beginning.

"They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man, sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter." Dean continued.

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Hailey asked, unafraid.

"Guy finds himself starving, usually during some cold winter," I picked up, "Not enough supplies, food or shelter. He becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the donor party?" Ben offered, looking back at Sam.

"That's right," Sam agreed, "Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities, speed, strength, immortality,"

"If you eat enough of it, over the years you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry," Dean added.

"So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" She questioned, and Dean glanced at us before returning his gaze to her.

"You're not gonna like it," He warned.

"Tell me," She insisted.

"More than anything the Wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps it's victims alive. It stores them so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother is alive, it's keeping him someplace dark, hidden, and safe. And we got to track it back there,"

"And then how do we stop it?" Hailey asked.

"Well, guns are worthless, and so are knives," I took that question. "So, basically," I looked to Dean, who held up the lighter and gasoline.

"We have to torch the sucker," He finished for me. We spent the next hour or two following the claw marks that were scratched into the trees.

"Mel!" Sam called from the front, and I jogged over to him. "Dean," He jerked his chin at the claw marks now on every tree surrounding us. "You know, I was thinking that those claw prints were so clear and distinct…"

"They were too easy to follow," I finished for him, my hand tightening on the lighter I had clutched in it. Suddenly, there was an inhuman growl from behind us. I spun around only to find empty forest. The trees rustled to my right, and I spun again, fear making my heart pound. There was a tapping like raindrops falling; I frowned at the sound and turned slower this time. Hailey let out a piercing scream, and I jerked back into Dean as a body fell from the tree. I didn't have to look to know who it was. Roy. Poor guy. Sam rushed over to Hailey, who was on the ground having dove out of the way of the falling corpse. I let go of Dean's jacket only to realize he had his arms around my waist, pressing me to him tightly.

"Dean?" Dean tore his eyes away from the body to look down at me and then quickly released me, looking away and walking towards the body while I went towards Hailey and Sam, offering her a hand up that she gratefully accepted.

"His neck's broken," Dean announced, feeling it. We had just got Hailey on her feet when Dean started pushing us away. "Okay, run, run! Go, go, go!" We sprinted away from the beast, and I found myself just behind Hailey. Then, I heard the thud of someone hitting the ground behind me, and I skidded to a stop, turning and running back to help Sammy pick Ben off the ground.

"I got him! Go!" I ignored Sammy's shout, and pulled the kid to his feet before running again. Hailey's terrified shriek cut through the air and made my legs pump faster. We stopped at where she had been moments before. I turned in a circle, looking around wildly for any sign of either of them.

"Dean!" I screamed, cupping my hands around my mouth. No answer.

"Dean!" Sammy yelled with me, but still nothing. This had happened before where we'd lost each other on a hunt, or got kidnapped. It was always fine. It was going to be fine.

"If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?" I turned to the kid as he asked that question while we started searching for signs.

"Honestly? I think because Roy shot at it," Sammy answered truthfully, "He pissed it off,"

"They went this way," My eyes snapped to Ben, and I hurried over to see what he'd found. A m&m. Dean's stupid bag of m&ms. I couldn't help a small laugh escaping me.

"It's better than bread crumbs," I grinned at Sammy, who nodded, taking the m&m and laughing a bit. We followed the trail to a decrepit entrance to a tunnel of sorts. I scanned the moss covered sign that hung above the door. KEEP OUT. NO ADMITTANCE. Sammy went in first with Ben and I right behind him. There were train tracks; it had been some sort of railroad. By the looks of it, it hadn't been used in at least fifty years. Sammy walked slightly ahead of us, shining his flashlight, lighting up as much of the tunnel as he could. A growl sounded from ahead of us, and he killed the flashlight. I grabbed Ben's hood and pulled him behind a boulder for cover. Ben peeked out, trying to get a glimpse of the monster that was keeping his sister and brother captive.

"Ho-" I slapped my hand over his mouth as the first syllable of his whimper came out.

"Shhh," Sammy hissed softly from beside us, peeking out to make sure it was gone. We continued down the tunnel, only stopping when we heard a weird squeaking sound.

"What-" Ben's question was cut off as the boards underneath us vanished, and we plummeted to the ground, coughing.

"Mel?" Sammy whispered, coughing as the dust cloud stirred when he moved.

"Yup, I'm okay," I pushed myself up from the ground, so I was sitting. Ben let out a horrified squeak, and scrambled back.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay," Sam soothed him as I followed his gaze to see what had freaked him out so bad. Skulls. Probably human. I flinched in disgust at the mountain of them. It wasn't until I looked past the skulls that my heart really stopped. They were all hanging, bound by the wrists and gagged. I shot to my feet, almost falling down again, but managed to remain upright with the help of the wall.

"Dean?" His face was bloody and motionless, and for a terrifying moment I thought he might be dead. "Dean!" I tried unsuccessfully to keep the fear out of my voice. His eyes flew open, and he groaned. "You okay?" I took the knife out of my back pocket and flipped it open.

"Ugh, yeah," He answered as Sammy came up behind me. I reached up and cut the ropes that held his hands, and he slumped over on me. I staggered under the sudden weight.

"Sammy, little help?" Sam slung Dean's arm over his shoulders and hooked one arm around his waist while I did the same on his other side. "Are you sure you're all right?" I asked him, worried.

"When we get out of this," Dean panted, "You are joining a gym," He groaned in pain as we set him down. I couldn't help the small smile that grew on my face as he said that. I knelt in front of him, checking him for any injuries.

"When we get out of this, you are laying off those bacon cheeseburgers," He laughed, which turned into another groan of pain.

"All muscle, baby," He managed, making me laugh despite everything. "Where is it?" He asked, getting down to business.

"It's gone for now," Sam answered, glancing nervously down the path we'd come. I looked over at Hailey and Ben to see they were over by a third figure hanging from the roof of the cave.

"Tommy," Hailey sniffled, reaching out for her brother, who suddenly jerked away with a gasp making her scream in surprise. She looked back at us with desperation, "Cut him down,"

"I'll get him," Sammy told us, moving over to them as I kept checking Dean.

"I said I'm fine," I gave him a look.

"The last time you said you were fine you had three cracked ribs," I mentioned, trying not to wince at the memory. "Hey," I crawled over to a duffel that had been ripped open in the corner and pulled out the three guns. "Guys!" I called to them, grinning and holding up one of the guns, "Flare guns,"

"Those will work," Sammy grinned back at me. It was slow going through the tunnels. Hailey and Ben were holding up Tommy between them while Dean and Sam went in front and I brought up the rear. There was a roar that echoed throughout the cave.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean cracked a joke, but no one laughed. It was too serious, and they were too scared.

"We'll never outrun it," Hailey stated sensibly.

"She's right. Especially not with Tommy," I added, nodding to the nearly unconscious man. Dean held my gaze for a moment, and I knew exactly what both him and Sam were thinking.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" He asked us.

"Yeah, I think so," Sammy replied.

"Yeah," I answered shortly, already not liking the plan.

"Okay," He turned to the three siblings. "Listen to me, stay with Sam and Mel, they're going to get you out,"

"Dean," I grabbed a fistful of his jacket, stopping him as he went by. He turned to look at me with a smirk already in place. "Be careful,"

"Always am," He winked at me before turning and running down the tunnel. "It's chow time, you freakin' bastard!" He yelled as I bit my lip in worry for a moment before turning my attention to the siblings. Dean could take care of himself. "Yeah, that's right! Bring it on, baby! I taste good," Sam stepped into the second tunnel for a moment, checking before nodding at me.

"All right, come on, we don't have much time," Sam took the lead as we hurried along the passage, and I stayed in the back, covering our retreat. There was a growling reverberating through the caves, as we made it to the exit tunnel.

"Sammy, get them out of here," I instructed, adjusting my grip on the flare gun and taking a deep breath.

"No," He answered firmly.

"Go!" I snapped at him, not looking away from the dark tunnel. "They're innocents, Sammy, take them back to the information cabin-"

"I'm not going to leave you or Dean," Sam spoke with finality, turning and nodding to the three. "Go, get him out of here," I lifted my finger off the trigger and took a deep breath as I pressed myself into the wall. Sammy pressed himself next to me, breathing hard. "Come on," He whispered, "Come on," I smelled the foul breath even before I heard it.

"Sammy!" I screamed, a scream that was drowned out by the thing's roar. I pushed Sammy to the floor as the Wendigo drew back it's claw to deliver the finishing blow. There was an explosion of sparks as the Wendigo ducked and the flare hit the wall, temporarily blinding us with it's light. I grabbed the back of Sam's jacket, pulling him roughly to his feet and shoving him along in front of me. "Run, damn it!" I yelled at him, and finally he did. We caught up to Hailey in no time.

"Sam?" She yelled back to us. "Mel? What-" She was cut off by a growl, and she screamed.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Sam urged, pushing them along as the thing gained on us. "This way!" He pulled us into a tunnel, but stopped short when he found the exit boarded. I turned, standing in front of them and holding my gun up. One shot.

"It's okay," The thing came toward us, and I took a deep breath in and then out. "It's going to be okay," I promised in a calmer voice, taking aim at the thing that was walking towards us.

"Hey!" I heard Dean yell just as I fired. My flare exploded in the Wendigo's head while Dean's worked in it's chest. It screamed as it was lit up in flames and dying, and I had to turn away as it melted into a pile of ash. "Not bad, huh?" His mouth twitched up in a grin, and Hailey and I let out a relieved laughs.

Half an hour later, I was standing beside Sam and behind Ben, who was recounting the story of the _huge_ grizzly that attacked us at our campsite. "I mean, this grizzly must have weighed 800, 900 pounds." Ben told the cops as they jotted down notes onto a pad. We walked over to where Dean was leaning on the hood of the Impala talking to Hailey.

"You ready?" She asked her baby brother as she saw us approaching. He just nodded, glancing at us briefly; Sam and I offered him smiles and nods. Hailey looked back at Dean before leaning over to kiss his cheek and whisper something in his ear. It took every fiber of my being not to try to listen to what she said. That same feeling rose in my stomach as she drew back, and Dean's eyes widened a bit.

"I hope you find your father," She told him earnestly. She turned to me and gave me a smile before putting her arm around her brother. "Thanks Mel, Sam," They walked towards the ambulance, and she looked back at us, offering us one last smile before getting in. I leaned on the Impala in between the two brothers as we watched the doors shut.

"Man, I hate camping," Dean whined.

"Me too," I agreed, resting my head on his shoulder, just realizing how exhausted I was.

"Me three," Sam added, grinning. Dean put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer as we watched the ambulance drive away.

"You know we're gonna find him, right?" Neither of us needed to ask who Dean was talking about when he spoke solemnly.

"Yeah," Sam answered for both of us, "We know, but in the meantime, I'm driving," I didn't have to look to know he was grinning as Dean hesitated.

"Don't do it, Dean," I begged him, from where my head was still resting on his shoulder. He let out a half laugh and tossed Sam the keys. Sam caught them, getting off the hood and heading to the driver's seat eagerly. "No, do you have any idea what you've done?" I slid off the impala as Dean laughed and followed me to the other side of the car, getting in the passenger's seat while I slipped into the back. I closed my eyes contentedly as Sam revved the engine to the Impala. For the moment, I was safe, and, for a hunter, that was saying something.


	3. Dead in the Water

****Okay, this episode is actually an idea I've had for a while, so please, please, please review and tell me if you think it was good! Thanks to everyone who reads! And the word was suggestions (for the beginning of last chapter). Anyway probably no one got that, but please review and tell me ideas, critiques, anything really! Thanks again! Oh and Disclaimer obviously!**

_Dead in the Water_

Dean's brow furrowed as he circled another face and name in the paper while I leaned closer to him to read what it said. Sophie Carlton - family sad to announce the death of their beloved daughter… My eyes skimmed the article, slowing to read the part about how she vanished mysteriously into the water, presumably drowned. I frowned as my eyes flicked back up to the beginning, searching for what I wanted. There: captain of the varsity swim team. Drowned?

"Can I get you anything else?" I glanced up and quickly looked away from the tall blonde woman who smiled coyly at Dean. I already knew what was coming next, and the familiar knot tightened in my stomach. Thankfully, Sammy chose that minute to come back from the bathroom, sliding into the booth seat opposite us.

"Just a check, please," He told the woman not unkindly. I gave him a grateful look while Dean's eyes remained fixed on the waiter, who smiled widely at him before walking away. Sam's mouth twitched into an almost pitying half smile as Dean sighed, oblivious to our exchange.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while," He patronized his brother, who rolled his eyes. "That's fun," He clarified, pointing to the retreating blonde. Sam just looked at him.

"Here," I took the paper from Dean, changing the subject. "Look at this," Sam stared at the girl in the picture, his eyes moving across the page.

"Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin," Dean elaborated, "Last week, Sophie Carlton, 18, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water - nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."

"A funeral?" Sam questioned in surprise.

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin for closure or whatever," I winced at Dean's careless tone, knowing it was a bit of a sore spot for Sammy since Jess's death.

"Closure?" He questioned bitterly. "What closure?" He looked right at us when he spoke his next words. "People don't just disappear. Other people just stop looking for them,"

"Something you need to say to us?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow at his clear innuendo.

"The trail for Dad - it's getting colder every day," Sam began irritatedly.

"Exactly, so what are we supposed to do?" Dean inquired tightly.

"I don't know," Sam shook his head, looking around. "Something. Anything," "You know what, I'm sick of this attitude," I took a big sip of my coffee as the two brothers bickered. Everyone was on edge lately, and it was no surprise. In total, we'd probably gotten ten hours of sleep in the past week. "Mel's sick of it too," Dean glanced back at me for support, but I waved my hands, swallowing.

"I'm staying out of this one, guys," Dean raised his eyebrows at me with a disbelieving look, and I sighed, giving in and looking past him to Sammy, "He's right, Sammy. You don't think we want to find John just as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do, but-" Sammy started only to have Dean interrupt him, turning away from me.

"We've been with him every single day for the past two years while you've been off to college going to pep rallies," Dean ranted, and I drank some more coffee (I would need it) before pushing it away from me.

"Dean, that's enough," I put my hand on his arm, stopping his rant. "We will find John, but right now we have exactly jack. So until then, we are going to hunt every evil thing we can find," My eyes flicked between the two boys. "Okay?" I prompted, holding Sammy's gaze, already knowing Dean agreed with me. Finally, Sam rolled his eyes and gave in, making me grin a bit, and I looked at Dean only to find him distracted by the waitress.

"All right, Lake Manitoc," Sammy conceded, looking back and forth between us. "Hey," His voice was sharp, and Dean snapped back to the present.

"Huh?" I glanced away from them both and then back, trying to ignore the knot growing even tighter in my stomach.

"How far?" We got up, paid and left with Dean pouting the whole way. It was 500 miles. In other words, 7 hours with one rest stop for food. We waisted no time getting a motel room or anything and drove straight to the Carlton's house. Dean only had to knock once before a boy a bit younger than Sammy opened the door.

"Will Carlton?" Dean guessed as I scrutinized the boy.

"Yeah, that's right," He confirmed softly. I didn't blame him; he just had to say goodbye to his sister.

"I'm agent Ford, this is agent Hamill and Jones," Dean held up our false credentials. "We're with the U.S. wildlife service," Will led us to the waterside where a man could be seen sitting on a dock, gazing out over the water. His father. Instinctively, I took a step back from the water, an unexpected wave of horror washed over me as I remembered my own dad and why he wasn't here anymore.

"She was about 100 yards out," Will informed us numbly. "That's where she got dragged down," My eyes flicked to his face in interest at his choice of words.

"Dragged down. Why do you say that?" I asked him thoughtfully.

"She was a varsity swimmer," He emphasized. "She practically grew up in that lake. She's as safe out there as in her own bathtub,"

"So no splashing, no signs of distress?" Sammy questioned routinely.

"No, that's what I'm telling you," Will shook his head, beginning to grow upset.

"Did you see any shadows in the water, maybe some dark shape breached the surface?" He continued, but Will still shook his head.

"No, again, she was really far out there," He stressed, crossing his arms in annoyance.

"You ever seen any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asked him.

"No, never. Why?" He responded, growing curious. "What do you think's out there?"

"When we have some idea, you'll be the first to know," I promised him, turning with Dean to leave.

"What about your father?" Something in Sam's voice made me turn back. "Can we talk to him?" Will turned to gaze sadly at his father before turning back to us.

"Look, if you don't mind, I mean, he didn't see anything, and he's kinda been through a lot,"

"We understand," Sammy nodded understandingly as I gave the boy a sad smile. Next stop was the police station, which was only a couple of miles up the road.

"Excuse me, sir," I knocked on the window to the office, causing the sheriff to come out. "We're with the wildlife services, here to check up on the drowning in the lake,"

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the wildlife service care about accidental drowning?" The sheriff asked, and there was something in his tone that made me distrust him.

"You sure it's accidental?" Sammy questioned skeptically. "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister." He explained as we followed the Sheriff into the back.

"Like what?" The sheriff snorted. "Here, sit, please," He gestured to the chairs as we entered his office. "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster,"

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, turning to look at me, rolling his eyes, and I suppressed a smile. The loch ness monster?

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure. There was nothing down there,"

"It's weird though," Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I mean, that's the third missing body this year," The sheriff nodded solemnly, leaning forward from his seat behind his desk.

"I know," He sounded haunted, "These are people from my town. These are people I care about,"

"I know," I nodded understandingly and the sheriff sighed.

"Anyway," The sheriff leaned back, "All this - it won't be a problem much longer." I frowned at him.

"Why not?" I asked, and the sheriff looked at us like we should know already.

"Well, the dam, of course," He spoke as if it were obvious.

"Right. Of course. The dam," Dean went with it. "It's, uh…, sprung a leak," He guessed, and the sheriff frowned at him.

"It's falling apart," He replied. "And the Feds won't give us the grant to repair it," I silently thanked our lucky stars we hadn't decided to go as FBI. "So they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either." Well, that explained a little at least. Could explain the deaths. Something didn't want the lake drained? "But as federal wildlife, you already knew that,"

"Exactly," Before Dean could say any more, there was a tapping on the door. We looked up to see a young woman entering into the office with a smile on her face.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" She asked, still smiling, but stepping back a little. "I can come back later," We stood up for introductions.

"Gentlemen and ma'am," I flashed him a gracious smile, " This is my daughter," Dean stepped forward first with a grin on his face as he looked her up and down.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean," She smiled again as they shook hands. Does she ever stop smiling? Okay, I was probably being a bit unfair.

"Andrea Bar. Hi," She introduced herself.

"Hi," Dean responded.

"They're from the wildlife service about the lake," Her father interjected, and her face fell. Before I could ask her about the lake, a small boy stepped out from behind her, making me smile slightly.

"Hey there, what's your name?" He asked the kid, who just looked down at the ground quietly before running off. Andrea looked embarrassed as her eyes met her father's. She turned and followed the boy out of the room quickly.

"His name is Lucas," The sheriff answered Dean's question with a sad note to his voice. I watched as the woman offered the boy some crayons to color the blank sheets of paper with.

"Is he okay?" Sam asked, looking back at the sheriff.

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have," The man suddenly sounded very tired and very old. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you. Please, let me know," I followed Dean out the door as the sheriff held it open.

"You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?" With a massive effort, I managed to suppress an eye roll as Dean turned to face Andrea when he asked the question.

"Lakefront motel - go around the corner, it's two blocks up," Dean frowned in a fake confusion, pointing vaguely towards the door.

"Two… would you mind showing us?" He asked, his mouth twitching into a slight grin. This time I did roll my eyes, and bit my lip to keep from saying something I'd regret.

"You want me to walk you two blocks?" She asked skeptically, but smiling the entire time, and Dean let out a small chuckle.

"Not if it's any trouble," Dean added. To be honest, I was hoping it was too much trouble.

"I'm headed that way anyways," She told him, and then turned to her dad, "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three," Then, turning to the kid, "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" She smiled at the boy, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on top of his head. Despite everything, I had to smile; the kid was cute. We followed Andrea as she walked brusquely down the sidewalk, making us almost jog to keep up.

"So, cute kid," Dean spoke up with an not-so-uncharacteristically bad pickup line.

"Thanks," She answered shortly.

"Kids are the best, huh?" I heard Sammy trying to muffle a snicker behind me, and I had to bite my lip. Why had I even been worried? I elbowed Sammy to get him to stop as we crossed the street to stand in front of the sign to the motel.

"There it is," She announced, turning to us. "Like I said, two blocks," She stood in between Sammy, Dean and me, facing Dean. "Must be hard with your sense of direction," Dean wiggled his eyebrows, looking cocky for a moment. Then, he glanced at me, smirking as I plastered a stoic expression on my face. "Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line," She jogged away, turning back to me and Sammy briefly to call, "Enjoy your stay!" I nearly joked on my laughter as Dean glared after her, and then at me.

'Kids are the best?'" Sam mocked. "You don't even like kids," My laughter died slowly after that. Another reason why we weren't together. Obviously.

"I love kids," Dean insisted, and I raised my eyebrows as he looked at me.

"Name five kids that you even know," I asked him, crossing my arms. He held up his fist with his thumb already raised as a number one, but paused. Sam scoffed, walking away from him and into the motel.

"I'm thinking," Dean scratched his head, and I just rolled my eyes, smiling before turning to follow Sammy. We got a hotel room without a problem, dropping our stuff down on the beds. Someone would sleep on the couch. That's how it'd been working since the Wendigo we had hunted.

"So," Sammy got down to business, opening his laptop. "There's the three drowning victims this year."

"And before that?" Dean questioned, sorting through his clothes. As I laid on the bed in exhaustion.

"Yeah, six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered either," Sammy informed us, scrolling through the articles.

"So its picking up speed," I noted, not lifting my head from the bed.

"So we got a lake monster on a binge?" Dean asked only half sarcastic.

"This whole lake monster theory - it just bugs me," Sammy told us, and I pushed myself into sitting position.

"I agree. I don't think it's a lake monster," I backed Sammy, walking over to pull up a chair and scan the articles.

"Why?" Dean came over to lean over my shoulder, so I could smell his leathery, earthy scent. I blinked harshly, snapping myself out of it and focusing on the case.

"Loch ness, Lake champlain - there are literally hundreds of eye witness accounts," Sammy explained, "But here, almost nothing. Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it,"

"Wait, Bar," Dean pointed at a name in the article. "Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?" Sam sighed as something tugged in the back of my brain. Bar.

"Christopher Bar," Sammy was reading aloud, "The victim in May," He pulled up a picture of a familiar little boy with a towel around him. "Oh, Christopher Bar was Andrea's husband. Lucas's father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned two hours before the kid got rescued," I looked away in horror at the thought. Poor kid. "Maybe we do have an eyewitness after all." Sammy added, glancing at us.

"No wonder that kid seemed so scared," I mused, pursing my lips. I winced as Sammy enlarged the image of the scared, wet boy with the towel around his shoulders.

"Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over," I looked up at Dean's haunted face as he agreed, his voice holding a double meaning. We headed out and down to the park where Andrea said she would take Lucas. Sammy walked a few paces ahead of us as I was lost in thought for a moment.

"You okay?" I asked, throwing Dean a sideways glance. He nodded, his mouth twitching.

"Yeah, fine. Feel bad for the kid, though," He told me, and I smiled a bit.

"I always wanted to have kids," Dean's eyes snapped to me in surprise, and he turned slightly. I'd never really told anyone that before, as if telling someone would make the dream less of a possibility. Of course, in the life, it was an impossibility.

"I didn't know that," He sounded almost startled by the news with a note of something else. I looked up at him, trying to read his face and frowning a bit, shaking my head. It was probably nothing. "Since when?" I shrugged.

"I don't know. Since high school I guess. It's just always been a dream of mine," Before he could reply, we had reached the park and spotted Andrea.

"Can we join you?" Sammy asked her as we approached. I watched Lucas playing with his crayons, coloring.

"Im here with my son," She told us, glancing over at Lucas.

"Oh," There was a moment of silence, causing my to glance at Dean, who was looking at me. "Mind if I say hi?" His eyes didn't leave mine until after he had asked the question. Without waiting for an answer, he walked over to the boy.

"Tell your friend, this whole Jerry Maguire thing's not gonna work on me," I grinned at her words and sat down next to Sammy on the bench.

"I don't think that's what this is about," I couldn't help sneaking a glance at Dean, who was talking to the boy, grabbing a crayon and starting to color. A smile spread across my lips as he talked to the kid. Dean headed back over to us after a couple minutes, and Andrea turned to us, standing.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me-" She told us and stopped when Dean approached. "Not since his dad's accident,"

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry," She nodded to Dean appreciatively.

"What are the doctors saying?" Sammy asked her.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress," She tried to shrug off her worry.

"That can't be easy," I sympathized, and she shrugged, looking back at Lucas.

"We moved in with my dad," She explained, "He helps out a lot. It's just…" Her eyes returned to the ground, and she shook her head, "When I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…"

"Kids are stronger than you think," I tried to comfort her.

"You'd be surprised what they can deal with," Dean added, flashing her a winsome smile.

"You know, he used to have such life," She half laughed, reminiscing. "He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there, drawing those pictures, playing with those army men." Lucas caught my eye as he came over, but quickly looked down again. "I just wish -" She broke off as she noticed her son coming up to them. "Hey sweetie," He kept his eyes trained on the dirt as he lifted the crayon drawing to Dean, who took it gently. My eyes widened slightly in surprise as I looked up at him.

"Thanks," He glanced up, meeting my eyes briefly before looking back down at the boy. "Thanks, Lucas," The kid just turned and walked off.

After that we headed back to the motel room and researched some more, and ate some take out. There was nothing much we could do, for there was still a rather long list of stuff it could be. There was plenty on sirens. Maybe water nymphs. Something like that? Mermaids even?

"You should get some rest," I turned my bleary eyes to where Dean was sitting across from me. I shrugged, blinking the sleep from my eyes and shifting, refocusing on John's journal that I had been studying.

"I'm fine," I replied, trying desperately not to yawn.

"You're exhausted," It wasn't a question.

"I-" I started only to have Sam chime in from across the room where he was scrolling through sites.

"He's right, Mel," I frowned at him, and then at Dean before sighing.

"Fine," I got up and made my way to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and sweeping my hair into a messy bun before changing into a tank top and sweatpants.

"'Night, gorgeous," Dean commented as I pulled back the covers. I glared at him sleepily making him laugh.

"Shut up," I mumbled, getting under the sheets and shutting my eyes.

_"You two will wait by the water for my signal. When I give it, you shoot the thing between the eyes, got it?" John demanded while my dad stood behind him loading the shotgun with silver bullets, handing the gun to me. I looked to my right to see an eighteen-year-old Dean Winchester looking determinedly at his Dad. I shifted awkwardly but nodded anyways. Dean and I - well - ever since I broke up with him last month our friendship had been…strained. He was pissed, hooking up with every girl in a ten mile radius, which hurt. I would never let him see how much it hurt me._

_"Yes, sir," Dean replied, a note of excitement in his voice as he was handed a gun as well._

_"It's very important," John studied us intently. "Don't screw this up," I shook my head without speaking as Dean still didn't look at me. "Go," We walked over to the dock in a tense silence._

_"Dean, you're going to have to talk to me eventually," I finally broke the thick silence that had been dragging on for the past twenty minutes._

_"What should I say?" He asked evenly in a completely emotionless voice. He might has well have stabbed me straight through the heart._

_"I don't know," I exploded, "Something. Anything!" After I had broken up with him, I'd cried for days, and he had been acting coldly towards me for a month now. Then again wasn't this what I had wanted? I'd been scared when I'd broken up with him. Terrified actually. Maybe, it was better this way? I sneaked a glance at him from the corner of my eye to see him looking out over the water. "At least look at me," I whispered quietly, fully turning towards him._

_"Did you cheat on me?" His question so completely threw me that all I could do was stand there with my mouth open, gawking at him. He did look at me then with a look of such anger and pain that I could barely meet them._

_"What? No, of course not! Did you really think-" I began hotly._

_"I don't know what to think!" He snarled at me, interrupting me. "I thought that-" He broke off and shook his head, returning his gaze to the water._

_"You thought what?" I snapped back, not wanting to let him get out of talking to me. When he didn't answer me, I stormed over to him, standing in between him and the edge of the dock. "Look at me!" I demanded, and when he turned slowly I was stunned to see his eyes glistening._

_"I thought you loved me," I do. His voice was quiet as he just looked at me, for once not caring if I saw the pain. I felt tears prick behind my own eyes, and I desperately tried to blink them away, "But, I guess I was wrong," There was a note of steel in his voice now as he started shutting me out again._

_"I did!" I mustered every ounce of strength I had and yelled the words at him. "And I'm sorry, okay? But with the Aswang in-"_

_"Then, maybe I shouldn't have saved you!" He interrupted me lividly, and I took an involuntary step back in shock at his biting words. "Maybe I should've let you die!" My eyes widened, and my mind blanked as I just stared into his hateful expression. That was when my feet were pulled out from under me, and I let out a short scream, dropping the gun and hearing it splash into the water. My hands softened my fall slightly, but I still yelped out in pain as my body hit the wood and started sliding along it into the water. A hand grabbed mine, and I stopped moving. My toes were in the water, and I could feel the wet, viselike grip of the Naiad we had been hunting. I couldn't help the yell that escaped me when my newly acquired scratches that probably covered my hand burned._

_"Dean, shoot it," I ground out, ignoring the pain. I managed to look up and saw he had dropped the gun when he grabbed my hand with both of his to rival the Naiads strength. Naiads preferred to drown men, some sick obsession with their beauty, but if they were threatened, they could take anybody. Dean let out a grunt as the Naiad hissed and gave a particularly strong tug. My feet entered the water up to my ankles, and then another pull and my knees were under. Dean couldn't stop her; he'd only slow her down. Another pull and my thighs were under the water; I was going to be drowned. Funny, I was going to be drowned, but the only thought that scared me was that Dean would get pulled down with me unless he let go._

_"Dean, let go," My waist was under the water, and Dean was on his stomach, holding me with one hand while the other was wrapped around one of the dock's wooden posts. My other arm was clutching the edge of the dock desperately._

_"No way in hell," He glared at me, but I could see the blind panic behind his eyes. "Don't you dare give up, Mel,"_

_"It's okay, Dean," My voice shook as the Naiad yanked and my stomach went under up to my ribs._

_"Don't you let go. Don't you fucking let go of me, Mel," Dean yelled, his voice strained as he desperately tightened his hold on my hand._

_"Sammy can't loose both of us. Take care of him, Dean," My voice choked, and I loosened my grip, making him tighten his. When he looked at me I could see the tears in his eyes._

_"Please, Mel. Please don't leave me. I need you," He was whispering now as the first tear fell down his cheek. I could count the times I'd seen Dean cry on half of my hand. My eyes worked to memorize everything about him; it would be the last time I would see him. "I love you,"_

_"I-" I was interrupted by a shout and the pounding of feet from the start of the dock, running towards us._

_"Melody!" Almost as if everything suddenly started happening in jell-o, the world slowed. My dad was running towards me, yelling my name, a look of terrifying determination and anger contorting his features. He snatched Dean's fallen gun off the deck and didn't slow down._

_"Dad, no!" I screamed, suddenly knowing what he was about to do. The Naiad preferred men. Without stopping, he leapt off the dock. The Naiad instantly released me, and I was pulled onto the dock before I could dive after him. Moving quickly, Dean dragged me back onto the shore, and, numbly I let him, my eyes searching the water for any signs of life. That's when I saw the red. The water around where he had dove in was turning a dark crimson color. Naiads didn't bleed. I lunged towards the water only to have Dean catch me around the waist, restraining me._

_"Daddy!" My throat was raw with my scream as I thrashed in Dean's arms. "Daddy! NO! Dean let me go! He's still alive!" I twisted away from him, someone was holding my wrists now. "DAD!"_

"Mel!" I jerked upright, breathing hard and trembling violently, looking around wildly. "Hey. Hey!" Rough hands grabbed my face, forcing me to look into dark, green eyes. "Look at me!" My breathing slowly calmed as everything came back to me. I was in a hotel room with Dean and Sam. We were working on a case and looking for John. I could almost see my eyes filling with unwanted tears as my throat closed. "You're okay. You're okay," I nodded, looking away from him, not wanting him to see me crying. My eyes caught the glowing clock: 3:37 am. I sniffled a bit and tried to take a deep breath but it came out choked and shaky.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, fixing the covers, and still not meeting his eyes as I felt a hot tear trail down my cheek.

"No, you're not fine," Dean sounded annoyed at my lie. I shifted over, and he slid under the covers beside me without having to be told. I looked up at him, another tear falling down my face as I let out a small sob. It had seemed so real. My dad. He had been there. In front of me again. It was my fault.

"It felt so real," I whispered and felt Dean's arms encircle my waist tightly, pulling me into his chest, where I rested my head, letting more tears flow. "It was my fault. I should've-"

"No," Dean stopped me firmly. "He made his own choice," I'm not sure when I fell asleep, but the next thing I remember is blinking awake with sunlight streaming through the windows. I smiled sleepily, turning my head in to snuggle into the warmth that was by my side. Dean. A shirtless Dean. He really was hot. Quietly and reluctantly, I rose from the bed, going into the bathroom and showering and brushing my teeth. After I'd applied makeup and got dressed, I walked out of the bathroom and almost ran smack into Dean, who smirked at me sexily. I rolled my eyes and walked past him to avoid him seeing the lust that was probably written all over my face. I almost jumped as the door opened and Sam walked through, stopping short when he saw us. I was already dressed in shorts and a comfortable tank top, but Dean was still sleep ridden and in just his boxers. How did I not notice that last night - this morning -? I turned back quickly to Sammy, giving him an awkward half smile.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie," Thank the Lord for Sam Winchester. He walked in and sat down on the bed, facing us.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom.

"I just drove past the Carlton house," My heart sunk at Sam's words. Someone else had died. "There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead,"

"Drowned?" I took a wild guess. Sam looked at me, and I knew the weird part was yet to come.

"Yep, in the sink," The sink? I frowned, mentally checking off all monsters that couldn't do that.

"What the hell?" Dean came out of the bathroom after having changed at literally light speed. "So, you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with else,"

"Yeah, but what?" Sam asked the question that we were all thinking.

"I don't know. Water wraith maybe?" Dean glanced at me for a moment, and I knew what he was thinking. Naiad? "Some kind of demon?" He asked instead.

"Well we know it's something that controls water," I pointed out.

"Water that comes from the same source," Dean figured out, and I looked at him, my eyes widening.

"The lake," I nodded as the pieces started fitting together.

"Yeah, " Dean said as Sammy added, "That would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone almost anywhere," I bit the inside of my cheek at Dean's words, realizing what that meant.

"It's going to happen again. Soon," I spoke, my eyes following Dean as he walked over to lean on a chair.

"And we do know one other thing for sure. We know that this has got something to do with Bill Carlton," Sammy told us.

"Yeah, it took both his kids," Dean sat down and started putting his boots on while I did the same from the bed.

"And I've been asking around," Sammy added, "Lucas's dad - Chris - Bill Carlton's godson."

"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit, then." I said, getting to my feet and heading out the door. The ride out took only half an hour, and Mr. Carlton was sitting out on the same dock as before. It was almost as if we'd never left him.

"Mr. Carlton," I asked softly, already uneasy about being on a dock, that and the fact that I could almost feel the pain rolling off of him. He jerked his head up to look at us as we approached. "If it's not too much trouble, we'd like to ask you a few questions,"

"We're from the Department-" Dean began routinely.

"I don't care who your with," The man cut in shortly. "I've answered enough questions today," I met Sammy's eyes and shrugged, nodding at him to continue.

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?" The father didn't respond to Sam's question. "Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death - we think there might be a connection to you or your family,"

"My children are gone," He told us brokenly. ''It's…" He choked up for a moment, and sympathy flooded through me. "It's worse than dying," He turned back to look at us, and the tears in his eyes tore at my heart. I glanced at the two boys and caught Dean's eyes. "Go away… please." I tore my gaze from Dean to look back at the heartbroken father, and that broke me. I grabbed Dean's arm with one hand and Sam's in the other and steered them away from the man.

"What do you two think?" Sammy asked us as we came to the Impala.

"I think the poor guy's been through hell," Dean spoke for both of us as he answered. Without thinking, I pulled open the passenger's door and leaned on the frame, looking at Dean as he continued, "I also think he's not telling us something,"

"So, where do we go from here?" I questioned as Dean stopped walking, focusing on the Carlton's house. "What is it?"

"Huh," Dean started thoughtfully, "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something." He pulled out a paper from his jacket, and I couldn't help but smile a bit as he unfolded the kid's drawing. We needed to go back to Andrea's. That though made me frown slightly, but then another thought overshadowed that one completely. Was Lucas psychic?

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea," Andrea sounded uncertain as she glanced up towards Lucas's room.

"I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes," Dean insisted, practically begging her while Andrea had her hands on her hips firmly. She'd let us in, so that was something, and if there was one person who could convince her, it was Dean.

"He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?" She asked rhetorically.

"Andrea," Sammy spoke up, bringing out his puppy dog-innocent eyes. "We think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there," She turned to Sam, her eyes flicking to me briefly before going back to Dean unsurely.

"My husband, the others - they just drowned," She spoke more to convince herself than to convince us. "That's all."

"Do you really think that?" I questioned, making her frown at me. "Because if that's what you really believe then we'll go, but if you think there's even the slightest chance that there is something more going on, Dean needs to talk to your son," I fixed her with an imploring gaze. "Please," That seemed to push her over the edge, for she turned and led us upstairs.

"He's coloring in his room," We followed her, stopping in the doorway as Dean glanced at me before entering alone.

"Hey, Lucas, remember me?" He asked the boy quietly. The kid didn't respond. Dean moved the pictures that lay on the floor, and I frowned, studying the crudely drawn red bike. Something pulled at my gut, and I almost stepped towards the picture. It had something to do with this case. It had to. "You know, I, uh…" Dean looked back over at Sammy for a moment before his eyes drifted to me and then rested on the boy. "I wanted to thank you for that last drawing… but the thing is I need your help again," The boy didn't even give any sign that he heard Dean at all. Dean pulled out the drawing of the Carlton's house and unfolded it, sliding it over to the boy. "How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen?" No answer. "Maybe you could nod yes or no for me," He offered. Nothing. There was a moment of silence.

"You're scared," Dean realized, thinking for a moment before speaking again, "It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom," I felt a tug in my heart as Dean's vulnerable side became visible. "And I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But, see - my mom - I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day, and I do my best to be brave," I studied his face, wanting to step into the room and comfort him, or just say anything, but knowing that doing so would alienate the kid. "And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too," The boy stopped coloring and looked up at Dean, handing him a picture from his pile. "Thanks, Lucas."

Dean glanced up from the floor, and I smiled at him as his eyes met mine. He was good with Lucas. He rose and came to stand by me, giving a small half smile to Andrea before we left the house. The walk out to the car was spent in silence, and I used it to mull over what had just happened. My mind kept drifting back to Dean sitting on the floor with Lucas, and I always found a smile had crept over my lips as I was lost in thought.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean spoke up as Sam studied the picture from where he was sitting in the passenger's seat. I was leaning against the right back door as my legs were stretched out across the back row and crossed at the ankles.

"There are cases going through a traumatic experience could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies," I winced as he said that.

"Well, whatever is out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" Dean questioned, sounding genuinely concerned for the boy. That was interesting; they could've formed a link when Lucas's dad was killed. Sammy made a doubtful sound, still studying the picture. "It's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please."

"He's right, Sammy, there's not much else, and I have a good feeling about this," I stopped myself abruptly, catching Dean's warning glance in the rearview. Sammy didn't know about my abilities. I wasn't even sure I wanted him to know. When it'd first started happening, John had hunted for nearly a year searching for answers and came up with nothing. Whatever this was, I was on my own, and it wasn't going away.

"What?" Sammy really didn't miss much. His eyes flicked suspiciously between Dean and I, and I shrugged lightly.

"It's just…" I bit my lip, pretending to be unsure, holding out my hand to him. "Let me see the picture again," Sammy handed me the drawing, and I studied it desperately, searching for anything to make me believable.

"There's no point," Dean told me as he threw another glance at the mirror, looking away as I caught his eye. "There's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Suddenly, a slow smile spread across my face as I found what I'd been looking for.

"But this church," I placed my finger over the church that stood in the background of the house. "Well, there's not a thousand of those here,"

"Oh, little miss valedictorian, thinks she so smart," Dean mocked, and I reached up to hit him in the arm, fake glaring.

"Are you ever going to let that go? That was almost nine years ago!" He laughed as I gave him another smack on the arm. It had been one school, senior year, I'd been valedictorian. It was probably the longest time we'd ever spent in one place. It was a werewolf that John had been hunting at the time, and, as he had so eloquently put it, it had been an annoyingly smart son of a bitch. A moment of comfortable silence stretched on for a couple of moments before Sam broke it.

"You know, um," He glanced back at me for a moment. I didn't have to be psychic to know a brotherly moment was coming on here. "What you said about mom-" While Sam talked, my eyes found the rearview and focused on Dean's face as it shut down. He glanced and almost as quickly glanced away. "You never told me that before,"

"It's no big deal," Dean brushed it off, keeping his eyes firmly on the road in front of him while I kept mine on his closed off face. There was silence for a moment, and then Dean turned to look at Sam and then back at me and scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, god, we're not gonna have a group hug or anything, are we?" I laughed for a moment as Sam let out an annoyed half chuckle. Suddenly and seemingly of it's own accord, my body jerked upright and sound exploded in my left ear. There was a woman crying, and wheels turning, praying.

"Turn left," I managed to get out around tightly clenched teeth, grabbing Dean's jacket tightly to try to dull the sudden stab of pain that felt like it was splitting my head. Without hesitating, Dean swerved the car around sharply, one hand automatically reaching out to grab my wrist as my arm wrapped around his chest, keeping me from getting thrown into the door.

"What the hell was that?" Sam snapped at us as soon as Dean righted the car and we were driving safely. He glared at both of us in turn.

"I remembered the Sheriff said something about a church up this way. Might be the one we're looking for," I lied smoothly, letting go of Dean, who let go of my wrist slowly. Sam scoffed disbelievingly, and I fixed him with a look, "Do you have something better?" He didn't, and a few minutes later we were standing beside a white church looking at a yellow, two-story house. "I hate to be the one to say I told you so, but…" I fought a smile as I looked up at Sam with raised eyebrows.

"Shut up," He rolled his eyes, turning his head away from me, but not before I saw the starlings of a smile on his face. I couldn't help laughing, glancing up at Dean, who was looking back and forth between Sam and I with a slight frown.

"Come on," He turned to the house, "Better get moving before this thing kills again," Without waiting for a reply, he began crossing the street, and I turned to Sam, who had a small smirk on his face, in confusion before following, a frown pulling at my own lips. Dean wasn't usually like that. God knows, we've joked enough in the past. We made our way to the house and knocked on the door, waiting a moment before knocking again. An elderly woman answered, looking up at us in wonder before ushering us inside.

"We're sorry to bother you, ma'am," Dean began, "But does a little boy live here, by chance?" The old woman's eyes widened in surprise at the question.

"He might wear a blue ball cap, own a red bicycle," I listed off the things I remembered from the picture. The lady looked at the ground then with such grief written across her face that I immediately understood the boy was dead. Another victim?

"No, sir," She answered tiredly and sorrowfully, "Not for a very long time," She led us into the living room, where she gazed sadly at a young boy's school photo that was framed on the table. "Peter's been gone 35 years now," She sighed heavily, and I put a hand on her shoulder in comfort, making her give me a trembling smile. "The police never - I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared," She turned back to us, shaking her head, and my hand dropped from her shoulder. "Loosing him - you know, it's…" The pain on her face was all too familiar as she struggled to find the words. "It's worse than dying," That rang a bell in my memory. Mr. Carlton had said those exact same words. I looked up at Dean to find him already looking at me with a smirk, making the corner of my mouth twitch up into a slight smile.

"Did he disappear from here - I mean, from this house?" I inwardly winced at Dean's gentle question.

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up," I glanced back up at Dean, but my gaze slid past him to fix on an old photo that was taped to the mirror. I walked past Dean towards the mirror, captivated by the boy on the bike with his arm around the other, taller blonde boy. I gingerly pried the photo off the mirror and turned to see the three of them looking at me. On a hunch, I flipped the photo, reading the neat scrawl that was spread across the back.

"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970," My eyes met Dean's again before turning back to the broken old woman. "I think we've found everything we're looking for," I fixed her with a bright smile, to which she managed a sad one in return. I stuck the photo back on the mirror before heading out the door and to the car with the two boys following.

"Okay," Sammy recapped from the back as we drove. "This little boy, Peter Sweeney, vanishes, and it's all connected to Bill Carlton somehow," As time passed, I was growing more and more impatient to get there. Something was wrong; I could feel it.

"Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something," Dean agreed while I barely glanced at him.

"And Bill," Sam continued, "The people he loves - they're al getting punished,"

"So what if Bill did something?" Dean suggested, glancing at both of us.

"What if Bill killed him?" I asked, keeping my eyes in front of me.

"Peter's spirit would be furious," Dean nodded thoughtfully, "It'd want revenge. It's possible." I felt his gaze on the side of my head but didn't turn, knowing he'd be able to see the worry in my eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" I was forced to turn my eyes to Sammy as he asked the question in concern.

"I'm fine," I answered, meeting Dean's eyes. He frowned for a moment before his eyes widened fractionally, and he floored it. "Dean!" I yelled in surprise as my back was pressed back into the seat, and the car shot forward. I hated it when he speeded twenty miles over the limit, let alone fifty. Luckily, the exit was only a mile up the road, and we made the turnoff and were pulling up into Bill's driveway a couple minutes later. We got out of the car, but I just stood by the closed passenger's door as Sammy and Dean yelled his name. I heard faint whispering, and closed my eyes, straining my ears to pick up what the voice was.

"Come play with me," The voice hissed, and I turned, running towards the lake and the dock where I somehow knew Mr. Carlton was. I heard Dean shout my name behind me, but it was drowned out by the starting of an engine.

"Mr. Carlton!" I shouted at him, but was grabbed around the waist before I could try to jump off the dock after him. His boat was already making it's way steadily towards the middle of the lake, but I still struggled against the arms for a moment. "Mr. Carlton, you can't! He'll kill you!" I didn't care if I sounded insane to him as I yelled after him.

"What's-" Sammy started to question but stopped short as he saw Mr. Carlton steering the boat into the middle of the small lake. "Come out of the water!" He cupped his hands around his mouth to louden his words. "Turn the boat around!"

"Mr. Carlton!" I screamed, hearing the same eerie hiss as before, and the bad feeling in my stomach worsened to almost nausea. "Mr. Carlton!" _Daddy!_ The flashback hit me hard just as the boat flew ten feet into the air before being sucked down into the water. I turned away from the scene and buried my head into Dean's shoulder, fisting my hands in his jacket and feeling his arms tighten around me securely, pulling me away from the edge of the dock. After a moment, I regained control of myself and stepped away from him, turning back to the serene lake before heading back to the car with them following. The whole trip to the sheriff's office an angry storm brewed inside of me as I glared out the window. I should've been able to do something. I should've been faster. I must've gotten these powers for some reason! Well, what good was it if I couldn't even save one freaking person.

"Sam, Mel, Dean. I didn't expect to see you here," Andrea's voice greeted us as we walked into the office. The sheriff followed us in, and passed us, taking the lead.

"So, now you're on a first name bases," He noted, glancing at both of the boys and then his daughter. "What are you doing here?" He questioned her.

"I brought you dinner," She told him, gesturing to the white bag that sat on the stool to her left.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really don't have the time," The sheriff barely glanced at the food before taking off his coat. She looked at us for a moment before returning her attention to her father in concern.

"I heard about Bill Carlton," Wow, news really does travel fast. Her father snapped his gaze to her in surprise. "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?" The sheriff looked back at us, and I frowned at the suspicion in his gaze.

"Right now, we don't know what the truth is, but I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home," He told his daughter, a not of worry in his voice that hadn't been there before. However much he did know about what was going on, it scared him. Suddenly, Lucas jumped up and ran over to us, pulling on Dean's arm despairingly.

"Lucas, hey, what is it?" He asked in concern for the kid, who was whimpering loudly. "Lucas? Lucas, it's okay," He attempted to comfort him as Andrea came over and tried to pull Lucas away.

"Hey," I moved around Dean to kneel by the boy, and he stopped struggling suddenly and looked at me, his eyes widening in surprise. "It's okay," His mother succeeded in pulling him into her arms, and he calmed enough for her to get him to walk out of the department. Dean watched him go with a sad look in his eyes, and once again, I wanted to reach out and comfort him. Instead, I ripped my gaze from his face and followed the sheriff into his office. We weren't together. He didn't… we weren't… I glanced backwards to see him reluctantly walk into the office behind us.

"What the hell happened?" Sammy and I explained the whole story while Dean sat there, uncharacteristically silent. If I was telling the truth, I was worried about him. Dean didn't open up. I knew that, but sometimes it was just so damn frustrating to have to guess what he was thinking all the time. He turned to and met my eyes, and only then did I realize I'd been studying him. He smirked, and I forced myself to focus on the sheriff.

"Just so I'm clear," The sheriff spoke up, and I refocused on the story we were telling him. "You see… something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill, who is a very good swimmer by the way, into the drink, and you never see him again?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Dean answered, for once speaking solemnly.

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake, and what you described is impossible, and you're not really wildlife service?" My face dropped at his words, but in the next second it was confused. "That's right, I checked, the department's never heard of you three.

"See? Now we can explain that," Dean spoke up, oozing false confidence.

"Enough, please," The sheriff hissed angrily. "The only reason you are breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance, or we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again," He pointed at us furiously, his tight features leaving no room for any argument or excuse.

"I think we'll go for door number two," I calmly answered for all three of us.

"That's the one I'd pick," The sheriff told us, still speaking in a low, threatening voice. Sam and I stood first as Dean rose reluctantly and followed us out the door and into the car. It got dark as we got to the edge of town, stopping at the sight that read Milwaukee turn left. Dean didn't turn, and instead we sat there for a moment.

"You think there's something more to the case," It wasn't a question, but I glanced over at Dean anyway, awaiting his response. Dean turned right, back towards Lake Manitoc.

"The interstate's the other way," Sam pointed out before Dean could say anything.

"I know," Was all he said.

"But, this job - I think it's over," Sam told him.

"I'm not so sure," Dean shook his head as Sam continued to insist from the back seat. I bit my lip, looking at Dean's face as he looked over at me determinedly.

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got it's revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest," Sam used logic and went through the facts, analyzing. Everything made sense, but I trusted Dean.

"All right, so what if we take off, and this thing isn't done?" Dean returned. "You know, what if we missed something? What if more people get hurt?" If it wasn't over and Dean was right, then why didn't I feel anything?

"Why?" He turned to fix me with steady, green eyes, asking me to believe him.

"Because Lucas was really scared," Dean finally admitted, and I could see the truth in his eyes before he returned his gaze to the road.

"That's what this is about?" Sam questioned incredulously.

"I just don't want to leave town until I know the kid's okay," Dean told us, letting out half a laugh as if he was surprised by his own words. I couldn't help smiling slightly at his words.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?" I laughed a little at Sammy's rhetorical question.

"Shut up," Dean rolled his eyes while I grinned at both of them before looking out the window. Dean pulled up at their house and got out hurriedly, walking quickly to the door so I had to jog to keep up.

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked for the thousandth time. "It's pretty late, man," In answer, I pressed the doorbell. It'd barely began to buzz when a panting, terrified Lucas pulled the door open and stared at us with wide, horrified eyes.

"Lucas?" Dean grabbed his shoulders. "Lucas!" Lucas just turned and ran up the stairs, and we sprinted after him.

"Come play with me," I heard that same eerie voice from the lake hissing. The top steps were wet, and when I reached the second floor I realized it was coming from the bathroom. Lucas ran to the door and started pounding on it with his tiny fist, but Dean grabbed him and pulled him away from the door, handing him to me. I held him tightly in my arms as Dean kicked in the door, and Sammy ran in.

"Is he all right?" Dean turned to us, and I nodded quickly as Sam grunted loudly as he tried to pull Andrea out of the tub.

"I've got him. Go help Sam," I told Dean, who hesitated, but before he could do anything, Sammy managed to pull a panting, naked Andrea from the tub and onto the floor. We stayed all night, making sure the two were okay. Sammy was in the other room talking to Andrea while Dean and I sifted through her photo albums, letters, cards, anything that could give us a clue as to why it attacked her.

"Come play with me," I spoke softly, not wanting Sammy to hear. Dean turned to me questioningly, and I explained, "The voice I heard at the Carlton's. That's why I ran for the water. I heard it again when Andrea was getting drowned," I forced myself to look up at him.

"And when you told me to turn?" I had been hoping he wouldn't ask about that. "Was that something you heard, too?" I shook my head helplessly.

"I don't know," This time, I held his gaze with a even determination. "I'm going to find out what's happening to me. I'll find some way to fix it. I have to,"

"Mel, we're going to figure this out, I told you," I was already shaking my head before he had finished.

"Dean, I'm a freak!" I struggled to lower my voice. "What if-" I stopped abruptly, afraid to voice what had been haunting me for months now.

"What if what?" His eyes seemed to bore into mine as he gazed at me. My mouth worked, but no sound came out. "What if what, Mel? Say it!"

"What if I start killing people, Dean? What if I end up just another monster? Or witch? What if you have to-" I didn't get far with that thought because he interrupted me.

"Shut up," His tone is what really stopped me. He had so many emotions swirling in those two words that I could barely distinguish any. "Listen to me, we are going to figure this out, all right? I'm not going to let you kill anyone," He spoke the words like a promise, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking, what if you don't have a choice? At that moment, a brown album caught my attention.

"What's that?" I pulled out the album, and read the title. Jake- 12 years old. Jackpot. I flipped through a few pages until I found a picture of a group of boy scouts. Three particular boy scouts grabbed my attention. I turned the album to Dean, tapping on the picture with my pointer finger, and he looked up and grinned at me. "I take it back," I told him, smiling back at him. "Maybe I'm not a freak."

"No, you are," He grinned wider, and my eyes snapped to him in shock. "But so am I," A slow grin overtook my face as I looked up into his eyes. He cleared his throat, turning towards the door, and I'd realized we'd been standing there for a couple of seconds, and I was no longer smiling.

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" Dean asked as he handed Andrea the book. She looked between Sam, Dean, and I in shock before stuttering out a no.

"Except that's my dad right there," She pointed to the pictures. "He must've been about twelve in these pictures."

"Chris Bar's drowning," I spoke up, looking over to Sam as I explained. "The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It was to the Sheriff. He was Chris's father-in-law,"

"Bill and the Sheriff - they were both involved with Peter," Sam pieced together.

"What about Chris?" Andrea asked in complete confusion. "My dad - what are you talking about?"

"Lucas?" Dean asked, ignoring Andrea's questions and instead focusing on the boy, who was standing by the window just staring through the glass. "Lucas, what is it?" Without talking, he opened the door and walked out with us hurrying after him.

"Lucas, honey?" His mom called as we followed. He stopped in front of a patch of moss and looked down on it solemnly as we came to stand in front of him.

"You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean ordered her, looking at the boy. Andrea didn't need to be told twice before grabbing Lucas and pulling him towards the house.

"What do you think is buried there?" I questioned, glancing at the both of them.

"I don't know, but I think we're about to find out," Dean answered. "I'll get shovels," He turned back to the house and started towards the shed that was in the corner.

"Are either of you going to tell me what's going on?" I turned to Sam in surprise and confusion.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, and he just shook his head and gave half a laugh.

"Do you think I don't notice? The looks when you think no one's looking?" I just gave Sam my best blank, uncomprehending face. He gave another half laugh as he clarified, "You know, Dean checks you out when you're not looking. You check him out when he's not looking. He's constantly worried about you, and you're constantly worried about-"

"Okay, I got it," I interrupted him, making him laugh in earnest. I shoved him, mock glaring. "Shut up, Sammy," And then a moment later, "Does he really check me out when I'm not looking?" Sammy opened his mouth to answer when Dean appeared beside us with three shovels, handing them up. We only had to dig for a minute before striking something solid and pushing the rest of the dirt away with our hands. I stood next to Dean, brushing myself off as him and Sam lifted the bike up for us to see.

"It's Peter's bike," Sam noted, looking at the chipping red paint. I froze as I heard the all too familiar cocking of a gun to my right.

"Who are you?" I turned slowly to see Jake standing there, pointing the pistol at us. Dean took a small step in front of me, shielding half my body with his. _He's constantly worried about you._

"Put the gun down, Jake," I tried to reason with him. "You don't want to do this,"

"How did you know that was there?" Jake demanded, tightening his grip on the weapon.

"What happened - you and Bill killed Peter?" Dean stalled in a smartass tone that worried me. "Drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried,"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Jake denied quickly.

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney 35 years ago. That's what the hell we're talking about," Dean answered him, trying to remain calm. "And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit."

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them, and it's gonna drag their bodies god knows where so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt."

"And then, after you've lost everything, it's gonna take you," I finished for Sam, "It won't stop until it does,"

"Really? And how do you know that?" Jake scoffed disbelievingly.

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton," Sam answered the mocking question seriously, trying to make the man understand how dire the situation was.

"Listen to yourselves, the three of you. You're insane," Jake told us, using any excuse not to believe. It was obvious he already had suspicions about what was going on; he was just too scared to admit they were true.

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us," Dean spoke evenly, "But if we're gonna bring down this spirit. We need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now, tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake."

"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asked her father, not wanting to believe it.

"No, don't listen to them," Her father denied flatly. "They're liars, and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake," Andrea told him, growing more and more desperate as he kept his eyes trained on us, "Dad, look at me." Slowly, the Sheriff moved his head to look at his daughter. "Tell me you - you didn't kill anyone." He lowered the gun slowly, not speaking at all. "Oh, my god," Andrea whispered as the truth sunk in.

"Billy and I were at the lake," He began, "Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time… it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long, and he drowned." He turned to us as he spoke, "We let the body go, and it sank." Then back to Andrea, "Oh, Andrea, we were just kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake, but, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost - it's not rational," There was a sick feeling boiling in my stomach, and I couldn't hold it any longer.

"You have to listen to us, all of you," I took control of the situation, "Let us get you as far away from the lake as we can." Suddenly, Andrea gasped, and I followed her gaze, my heart nearly stopping as I saw Lucas on the dock bending down by the water.

"Lucas!" His grandfather yelled as he stuck his fingertips into the water, swirling them around. I sprinted after Dean, Sam, and the sheriff as we ran towards the water. We approached the dock just in time to see Lucas' head disappear into the watery depths.

"Stay on the dock!" Dean yelled back at me before he and Sam jumped off the dock.

"Like hell I will," I muttered as I kicked off my boots, throwing my flip phone onto shore before diving off the dock after Sam and Dean.

"Come play with me," I heard the voice hiss, and I spun around underwater before breaking the surface again, gasping for air and turning to see if he'd been found.

"Mel?" I turned to look at a seriously pissed off Dean as he dove down again for the boy, Sam following him.

"Peter," The sheriff's voice stopped me from diving after the brothers. I turned to see him entering the water and started swimming towards him. "If you can hear me, please, Peter, I'm sorry,"

"Daddy?" Andrea's terrified voice sounded from the dock, and I swam faster towards him. It was as if my dad's death was replaying itself, only this time, I was in the water. This time, I could do something.

"I'm - I'm so sorry," The sheriff continued as I pushed myself still faster.

"Get out of the water!" I yelled at him, desperate for him to be saved.

"Peter, please! Lucas - he's just a little boy. Please, it's not his fault. It's mine. Please take me!" The sheriff begged the spirit for the trade. Sam and Dean surfaced behind me, but I was already halfway to Jake. "Please, it's not his fault! Please, take me!"

"Jake, no!" I heard Dean yell behind me, but it was too late for him.

"Just let it be over!" His face changed; it had him. For a moment, it looked as though he were stronger, and then he got pulled under. I dove after him, sucking in a breath before I went and pumping my legs hard, seeing him in front of me growing larger. I grabbed his hand, and it tightened around mine. I pulled at him with every fiber of my being, trying desperately to move him an inch upwards, but the best I could do was to slow the descent. My lungs were burning for air, and I could see the surface shimmering above me as I tried to reach it. The hand was too tight around mine; I couldn't get out. I needed to save him. I couldn't let him die. He had a daughter. And a grandson. And a family!

Against my will, my mouth opened and my body sucked in water, tried to cough. I felt as though a pillow had been pressed against my mouth, and my body yanked at the arm with sheer panic. And then… nothing. I stopped struggling and just drifted through the water, not resisting the pull of the spirit anymore. It was almost peaceful in here. Everything was clear. The surface shimmered tauntingly, and I frowned. I was going to die. I'd miss it here. I'd miss the Impala. John. Bobby. Sammy. And Dean. God, I would miss Dean. I loved him. I really did. More than I'd ever loved anybody. Black spots danced in my vision, and the world slipped into oblivion.

-3rd person-

Andrea was on the verge of giving up hope and sinking into despair when Dean resurfaced with her child held firmly in one arm. She almost choked on her relief as he made his way to the dock with Sam. They placed a coughing Lucas on the wood, and Andrea grabbed him in her arms, not caring how wet he was. Sam was already out of the water, and Dean was pulling himself out when Andrea spoke urgently between sobs.

"Mel didn't come up," Both boys heads snapped to her, their eyes wide.

"What the hell do you mean she didn't come up?" Dean was out of the water now. "Where did she go?" Andrea pointed a shaky finger at where her father had disappeared. Dean didn't hesitate to dive in after her, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He swam farther and farther down into the murky water, and then he saw her. Her eyes were closed, but she looked so pale. Paler then Dean had ever seen her. He grabbed her hand, and, with one tremendous pull, freed her from the dead Sheriff's grip.

"Dean!" He heard Sam's voice as he broke the surface with her clutched in his arms. He managed to get to the dock, and Sam pulled her onto it, immediately checking her pulse and breathing. "Dean, she's not breathing!" He yelled at her brother, a note of absolute terror in the twenty-two year olds voice. Dean's life froze around him at those words. He didn't remember climbing onto the dock, but the next thing he knew he was next to her, brushing the wet hair out of her face.

He pressed his lips to hers, blowing. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… He had taken a course in high school. She had made him take it because she had had to. Blow. Blow. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… He wished to god he'd payed better attention instead of laughing and making stupid smartass comments. He'd just wanted to make her laugh. That's all he really cared about in high school.

"Come on, Melody!" He snapped at her limp body, and Andrea watched in stunned shock as she saw a tear roll down his cheek as he continued with the compressions. "Don't you die on me, Mel. Not after all we've been through. It can't end like this," She doubt he even knew he was crying. "Come on, Mel, breathe! Please!" The raw desperation in his voice made her press her whimpering child to her and wrap her arms around him tightly.

"Dean," Sam's voice cracked twice as he said his brother's name. "Stop," His brother didn't give any sign he'd even heard Sam. "Dean, stop!" He pushed Dean off of her, nothing could change the fact. She didn't have a pulse. "She's-" His voice cracked so bad he couldn't continue, so he just simply shook his head trying to hold back the hot tears that poured down his face. And then, Sammy lost it.

"No," Dean's hand found hers, intertwining his fingers in her cold, limp ones and pulling he into his arms. "You can't be dead, Mel, okay? Just open your eyes, please. You have to tell me I'm speeding. And that I'm being an ass. And I'm going to get myself killed. And I'm being too hard on Sammy. Please," He pressed his forehead against hers, his tears mixing with the water already covering her face. "I need you. I love you," He whispered, and then angrily, his voice grew louder. "I love you! Is that what you wanted to hear? I need you to wake up. Just open your eyes,"

She coughed. Water gushed out of her mouth and onto the dock. She gave another wet cough. More water stained the wood of the dock. Her body shook with the last cough, and it left her breathing shakily as she looked up at a wet Dean.

"Hey," She mumbled, taking in the puffy redness around his frightened eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Dean openly frightened about anything, and the terror that was clear in his eyes now scared her more than anything.

"Hey," He let out a shaky laugh, running his thumb over her features, memorizing them. Before he knew what he was doing, he pressed his lips to hers gently and felt her freeze with surprise under his lips. Realizing what he was doing, he pulled away quickly, staring into her wide eyed face with regret written in his eyes.

"Um, I should-" He looked up and cleared his throat, and his eyes found Lucas and Andrea. "I should take them back," He muttered, gently placing Mel on the ground, avoiding her eyes and letting her hand slip away from his. "Make sure she's safe," He didn't look at Sammy as he past him.

"Dean," She snapped out of the stunned stupor, standing unsteadily and grabbing his hand. His fingers trembled slightly under her touch, or maybe they had been trembling already. He just took his hand back and continued walking, not looking back. What had happened? "Sammy," She turned to Sammy and was hit by a hug so hard that she had to take two steps back. Automatically, she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, feeling him shaking. "Who died?" She tried a weak attempt at a joke.

"You did," He murmured, shocking her. "You didn't have a heartbeat. You drowned," That's why they were acting so weird. Her heart sunk into her feet when she realized something else. That's why Dean kissed her. He pulled away from her, there were still tears in his eyes and he breathed shakily. "You know I love you, right?" She smiled at him, pulling him into another hug.

"I know, Sammy," She couldn't stop the smile, though. She couldn't remember the last time he'd actually said those words to her. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had. "I love you, too,"

-1st person-A couple hours later-

"You two are going to have to talk to each other sometime," Sam pointed out as we waited by the car for Dean to grab the last of the bags.

"I wouldn't know what to say," I looked down at my hands. I hadn't been this awkward since I was a freshman in high school. Dean had just joined us, when, thankfully before Sam could make some dumb excuse to leave, Andrea called our names.

"Hey," We walked over to Andrea and Lucas, who was carrying a plate full of sandwiches.

"We're glad we caught you," She told us, smiling. "We just, uh, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself,"

"Can I give it to him now?" Lucas asked, and I smiled at him.

"Come on, Lucas, let's load this in the car," Dean grabbed the tray from Lucas, and they headed towards the back of the car as I watched them go.

"I should go - make sure they don't move my bags," I fought a smile as I realized Sam was worried about his computer. Sammy. I turned to Andrea, my expression turning to concern.

"How're you doing?" I asked her quietly. She let out a long sigh, studying me for a moment.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?" She told me honestly, and I felt guilt weighing on my chest.

"Andrea, I'm so sorry. I should've done something-" I started, looking at her with guilty eyes.

"You helped save my son," She interrupted me. "I can't ask for more than that," She took a deep breath. "Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that," I looked back at Dean and Lucas as Sam tried to move his bags so they wouldn't crush them. They gave up and Dean moved the sandwiches upfront. "He loves you, you know," I just shook my head, smiling sadly.

"He was just scared," I told her, smiling softly as he gave the kid a high five.

"You didn't see him," Her eyes moved to Sam and back to Dean. "You didn't see them. They fell apart without you," I just looked at her with sadness.

"We grew up together. We're close," She shook her head, smiling slightly.

"All I know, is that if someone loved me as much as he loves you. I wouldn't wait," Dean looked up, and I looked away. "You love him too. I can tell," We walked over to stand by Dean, Sam, and Lucas.

"Thank you," She smiled at Dean and then Sam.

"Sam-" Dean started.

"Dean," I cut him off as he started to turn, making him look back to face me. "There's something I forgot to do," Without thinking, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought his lips down on mine. He reacted immediately, his hands sliding around my waist, pressing me closer to him. My arms snaked around his neck, and one hand came up to tangle in his short hair. When I broke away from the kiss, we were both breathless, and he leaned his forehead against mine. Occasionally, he would lean down to kiss me or I would raise my lips to meet his. Someone coughed loudly behind us, and I turned, loving the way Dean's arm remained around my waist.

"All right, Sam," Dean snapped at him, and I tilted my chin upwards. He took the opportunity and kissed me sweetly while I closed my eyes, savoring it before he broke away. "What are you looking at, Sammy? Move your ass, we're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road," I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I turned back to Andrea, and she offered me a small smile in return. I opened the car door and climbed into the back, slamming it shut behind me. I gave a half wave to Andrea and Lucas, and soon, Dean put them and the town in the rearview mirror.


	4. Phantom Traveler

****Sorry it took so long! Please, please, please review and tell me what you think! Thanks so so so much! And tell me if you have ideas or suggestions for coming chapters! Anything that you'd like to see happen. Thanks again!****

_Phantom Traveler_

All at once, I was awake and on high alert. There were footsteps coming up to our motel room door, and I tensed, moving away from Dean slightly and causing his arm to tighten around my waist. I shook his side harshly, trying to wake him up, but only succeeded in making him moan in protest. My hand slipped under the mattress and wrapped around the hilt of the small throwing knife that I'd hidden there.

"Dean," There must have been something in the way I hissed his name that told him something was wrong, for his eyes opened, locking with mine. "There's someone coming," I whispered, looking up at him from where my head was laying on his chest. We'd been so tired that we hadn't bothered with the covers or blanket and just crashed on the bed. We both closed our eyes when the door creaked open, and I felt Dean's other arm slowly sliding up to the pillow where he kept a blade stowed just in case. Whoever it was wasn't the quietest person, and the heavy footsteps stopped a few feet away from the foot of our bed. I turned, half pulling out the knife before I registered that the person standing there was Sammy and not some psycho or thief.

"Morning, sunshines," He greeted too cheerfully, and I rolled my eyes, sinking back into Dean's chest as he relaxed as well. Why did we have to start so early? I mean for once couldn't we just start at eleven.

"What time is it?" Dean got out groggily.

"It's about five forty-five," Sam answered, glancing at the clock. For a moment, I debated giving him a glare but decided it required too much effort.

"In the morning?" I complained, eliciting a small laugh from Sam.

"Yep," Sam confirmed, and I raised my head to look at him, squinting as the sunlight bled through the curtains. He held three cups of coffee and had a ready look on his face that made me think he probably stayed up all night.

"Where does the day go?" Dean asked rhetorically, turning so he could slip his other arm around my waist as well.

"Tell me you got some sleep," I practically begged Sammy, tired of constantly worrying about him.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours," Sam lied, glancing down at the coffee cups in his hands.

"Liar," Dean called him out as I reluctantly pulling myself out of bed and the comfort of Dean's arms as he groaned in tired protest. "Cause I was up at three and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial," I threw Dean his pants as he sat up, looking at Sam.

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV," Sam tried to play down his sleepless nights.

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" I heard Dean ask from the bathroom, where I changed, brushed my teeth and hair, and did my makeup.

"A little while, I guess. It's not a big deal," Sam tried to brush it off again.

"Yeah, it is," Dean told him worriedly.

"Look, I appreciate your concern-" Sam started.

"I'm not concerned," Dean interrupted him, using a different tactic at forcing Sam to start taking better care of himself. "It's your job to keep Mel's ass and my ass alive, so I need you sharp. Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" I heard footsteps for a moment before Sam answered him.

"Yeah, but it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job - man, it gets to you," I paused from where I was finishing my mascara to listen more intently to Sammy. My heart sunk as he talked, and I wanted to just shield him from all of it. I shook my head to rid myself of that useless wishful thinking and continued with the mascara.

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that," Dean tried to cover his concern.

"That's easy for you to say," I raised an eyebrow at Sammy's words, putting down the mascara and giving my hair another couple of brushes before reaching for the door. My hand froze at Sammy's next words. "You have Mel,"

"Yeah," I could hear the smile in Dean's voice, and it warmth bubble inside of me as much as I tried to push it down. He quickly cleared his throat and continued, "But even so, you have to just let it go,"

"You're really saying that all this - it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked, and I knew the answer to that regardless of what Dean decided to answer. It did keep him up at night. It kept me up too. Dean was better about it than me, but it still wore on him. "Never?" I walked out of the bathroom, and Sammy looked up at me, "What about you, Mel? Ever afraid," I shook my head, trying my best to look unconcerned. "You two are never afraid?" Sammy reiterated, and I met Dean's eyes before he turned back to Sammy.

"No, not really," Dean responded, speaking for both of us as I sat down beside him on the bed. Sammy reached out and slipped Dean's knife from under his pillow and then my smaller one from under the mattress. I kept one on each side just in case.

"That's not fear," I told Sammy, reaching out to take back my throwing knife and slipping it back under the bed. "That's just being careful,"

"All right, whatever, I'm too tired to argue," Sammy conceded, and I frowned in concern. Before I could say anything, Dean's phone rang, and he picked it up off the nightstand, looking at it with cautious curiosity before flipping it open and pressing it to his ear.

"Hello?" He asked.

_Dean, it's Jerry Panowski._ Jerry Panowski? The poltergeist guy? What was he doing calling us? Dean was looking at me in a tight, disbelieving confusion. _You and your dad helped me out a few years back. _His face cleared.

"Oh, right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania. The poltergeist thing," Dean recalled. "It's not back, is it?"

_No, no thank god, no. But it's something else, and, uh, well, I think it could be a lot worse._

"What is it?" Dean questioned.

_Can we talk in person?_ Jerry sounded scared, and I stood, knowing we had a trip ahead of us, which meant packing.

"We can make it in three hours," It was really closer to three hours and a half even with Dean's driving, for packing took longer than expected. I sat in the front, and, truthfully, I'd been hoping Sammy would get some sleep in the backseat, which he didn't. I was starting to really get worried the kid who'd been a little brother to me my whole life. We stopped outside of a warehouse, which, surprisingly and breaking tradition, didn't look abandoned.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick," Jerry told us as we walked behind him. "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Melody, and your dad really helped me out," He directed the last part at Sammy, glancing at him.

"Yeah, they told me," Sammy replied. We'd filled him in on the hunt that had involved Jerry a few years ago. "A poltergeist?"

"Poltergeist?" A worker called from where he was fixing an engine with a wrench. "Man, I love that movie,"

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep working," Jerry castigated the worker, making me smile slightly. He turned back to Sam as he started again, "Damn right it was a poltergeist - practically tore our house apart. Tell you something," He redirected his attention back to Dean and me, "If it wasn't for you two and John, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off to college, that right?" He changed the subject, glancing at Sam.

"Yeah, I was," Sam replied, choosing his words carefully. "I'm… taking some time off," We exited the warehouse and made it to the outdoor hangar.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell," I smiled slightly, risking a peek at Sammy from the corner of my eye to see the hidden grin on his face. "He talked about you all the time,"

"He did?" Sam asked in surprise. It was no secret how little Sam thought he meant to John, but it was also no secret how much he did mean.

"You bet he did. Oh, hey, I tried to get ahold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doin' anyway?" I met Dean's eyes as Jerry asked the touchy question.

"He's, uh, wrapped up in a job right now," Dean danced around lying to Jerry. I looked at the huge plane that was to our right and frowned at the weird feeling in my stomach but shook it off.

"Well, we're missing the old man. We get Sam," I grinned at Jerry's words and glanced at Sam. "Even trade, huh?" Dean laughed, looking at Sam, who looked away.

"No, not by a long shot," Sam's voice held an almost bitter note to it.

"I got something I want you guys to hear," We gathered around the CD player as he pressed the eject button. "All right, listen to this. Well, it sounded like it was up your alley," He set the disc in and pressed the button again. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours," Jerry sat down, and Sam, Dean, and I pulled up chairs and followed suit.

"Mayday. I repeat, mayday," The panicked, male voice cut through the static. "Repeat, flight britannia 2485. Requesting immediate help," There was an alarm blaring in the background, and I had to concentrate to make out the words. "Flight britannia 2485, we seem to be experiencing some mechanical failure," There was a click, a moment of silence, and then there was an inhuman monstrous growl that was clear as day even with the static. The audio cut off with a snap.

"Took off from here, crashed about 200 miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over 100 people on board. Only seven got out alive," Jerry filled us in on the details. "The pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh… Well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault,"

"But you don't think it was?" I questioned, already knowing the answer. That thing that growled on the tape. Well, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it wasn't human, especially knowing what Jerry knows.

"No, I don't," He confirmed, looking seriously at me.

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests," Sammy told him.

"And a list of survivors," I added. A lot of the time a monster will attempt to kill everybody, and if that fails, it will target the survivors.

"Right, and any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked, even thought I was pretty sure all three of us knew the answer to that.

"The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage - fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance," I glanced at Dean, who quirked his eyebrow at me while his lip twitched up into a brief mischievous grin. I turned back to Jerry with a smile on my face.

"No problem," I told him, still smiling. "But we are going to need the other stuff as soon as possible." The first stop was the first copy place we could find that would make us IDs, which happened to be someplace called Copy Jacks. Dean and I went in while Sam waited by the car, and they took a couple of minutes before handing Dean our cards. Dean handed me my card before throwing his arm over my shoulder as we walked out to the car.

"You've been in there forever," Sam whined as a greeting, and I offered him a short smile as Dean held up the cards with his free hand and I held up mine. I'd tried to convince him to stick to local police, but he'd insisted on Homeland. I mean, it was different, at least, but I just… I don't know. Something in me didn't like the idea too much.

"You can't rush perfection," He told his brother, who studied the cards with a frown.

"Homeland security?" Sam made a face. "That's pretty illegal, even for us," I shrugged as I got into the passengers side, making Sam's frown widen.

"Yeah, well, it's something new, y'know?" Sam looked at me questioningly.

"Don't look at me, Sammy, I tried to talk him out of it," I paused for a moment, thinking it over. "But he does have a point. People haven't seen this a thousand times like the FBI," Sammy got into the back with a huff of frustration, and I slammed the door behind me.

"All right, so what do you got?" Dean asked, and I grinned back at Sammy, who laid the papers on the seat next to him.

"Well, there's definitely E.V.P. on the cockpit voice recorder," He began, clicking the button for the recorder, "Listen," There was static for a moment, and then there was a evil, hissing sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "No survivors,"

"No survivors?" Dean repeated, "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors,"

"Maybe there weren't supposed to be," I suggested, and the two boys looked to me, mulling it over for a moment.

"Right," Dean agreed, "So, what are you two thinking? Haunted flight?"

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers, or, uh, remember flight 401?" I'd forgotten about that. That could be it.

"Right, the one that crashed. The airline salvaged some of it's parts, put it in other planes. Then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights," Dean recalled while I nodded, turning in my seat and holding out my hand for the list of survivors, which Sammy gave me. I flipped through the seven people, trying to get a vibe from one of them. Nothing came to me.

"Maybe we got a similar deal," Sam offered, shrugging as my eyes finally caught something that was interesting.

"All right, so," Dean looked at me, and when I looked up, I saw he was grinning slightly, I returned my gaze to the papers, fighting a smile, "Survivors," Dean spoke quickly, clearing his throat, "Which one do you want to talk to first?" I handed him the list with the names on it.

"Third,"Sam told him before I could get a word in. "Max Jaffey,"

"Why him?" Dean questioned, his eyes flicking to the rearview to look at Sam.

"For one, he's from around here," Sam spoke up, beating me to it again.

"And two," I cut in, "If anyone saw something strange, it was him," Dean looked at me sharply.

"What makes you say that?" He asked, and I showed him the address that was listed under Max Jaffey. Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital. The drive there took about an hour, and Sammy spent most of it studying the files while I sifted through them trying to pick up a vibe. It was getting harder and harder to hide all of this from Sam, and I was fairly certain he was starting to get suspicious. I'd hidden things from Sam in the past, but the last big thing was in high school. Dean and I hadn't told Sam we were dating until two months after we started. Well, we didn't exactly tell him, he found out. It didn't go over well. That and the fact that when I finally admitted everything that had been going on to Dean, he had acted weird for almost a year. I didn't feel like going through that again.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Dean pulled in to a parking space right in front of the hospital. We walked up to the front desk, flashing our badges briefly before she led us in to the facility and straight to Max Jaffey.

"I don't understand," He answered when Dean told him we were Homeland. "I already spoke to homeland security,"

"We know," I covered us, " But some new information has surfaced, and we need to double check the information. If you don't mind, that is. It's only a couple of questions," He leaned heavily on his cane as he walked between Dean and I and Sam.

"Just before the plane went down," Sam started, not waiting for a nod of consent. "Did you notice anything unusual?"

"Like what?" Max asked, but I could see on his face he already knew what.

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe… voices," Dean listed, and Max shook his head.

"No, nothing," We reached a wooden table and I took a seat across from Max and between Sam and Dean.

"Listen, Mr. Jeffrey," Dean started.

"Jaffey," Max corrected, looking increasingly uncomfortable as he sat.

"Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" Max gave a shaky nod. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash," His voice was laced with sass as he became defensive.

"Uh-huh, and that's what terrified you?" Dean double checked. "I mean, that's what you were afraid of?"

"I-I-I don't want to talk about this anymore," Max stammered, glaring at us now.

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what," Dean spoke with a hard edge to his voice, scaring the patient even more.

"No," Max told us flatly. "No, I was delusional - seeing things," Dean turned to us with a can-you-believe-him look.

"He was seeing things," Dean repeated for us, and my mouth twitched slightly as I fought a smile when Dean rolled his eyes. I turned back to Max, thinking I'd give it a try seeing as Dean failed.

"Max, we need to know what you saw up there," He studied me for a moment with furrowed brows. "It's okay," He finally gave in, taking a deep breath and looking away from me, down at the table with a pained expression.

"There was… this… man," He began hesitantly. "And, uh, he had these eyes… these, uh, black eyes, and I saw him… I thought I saw him…" He trailed off as though it was too horrifying to say.

"What?" Dean prompted, and I shot him a look at his unfeeling tone.

"He opened the emergency exit," My eyebrows rose and my eyes widened in surprise. "But that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door," His eyes never left mine as he spoke, and I could see the fear in them. As much as he wanted to believe he was crazy, and none of that really happened, he didn't. He believed what he told us.

"This man - did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It-it would look something like a mirage," Way to be discreet, Sammy. Max turned to look at Sammy as though he'd grown a second head.

"What are you nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me," Well, that was useful. I stood along with Sam and Dean.

"Well, thank you for your time. We really should get going," I told him, and we left quickly, not waiting for what I'm sure would've been a heartwarming goodbye from Max. Sam read out the address for the man that was sitting in front of us, and, luckily, his house was only half an hour away.

"Here we are - George Phelps, seat 20C," I turned to sit upright, taking my legs off of the seats they had been laying across, and looked out the window at the house. Seemed normal enough.

"Man, I don't care how strong you are," I got out of the car with Sam and Dean. "Even yoked up on PCP or something. No way you can open up an emergency door during a flight,"

"Not if you're human," I pointed out, glancing at Sammy before turning to face Dean and leaning on the car.

"Right, maybe this guy George was something else- some kind of creature, maybe, in human form," Sam ran through possibilities.

"Does that look like a creatures lair to you?" Dean asked, pointing up at the two story house. I turned back to the house, studying it briefly before shrugging. We walked up the steps to the picturesque house and knocked on the door. We barely even had to show the woman our badges before she let us in. I sat next to Dean on one of the small couches and Sammy sat next to us on an armchair while the grieving woman sat across from us.

"This," Sammy picked up a framed picture. "Is your late husband?"

"Yes, that was my George," She replied as calmly as she could.

"And you said, he was a… dentist?" She nodded again.

"He was headed to a convention in Denver," Her voice was thick with emotion as she talked. "Do you know that he was petrified to fly?" My eyes, which had been roaming around the room, snapped to her as she spoke those words. Unstable emotions. "For him to go like that…"

"How long were you married?" Sam asked softly.

"Thirteen years," She answered, one hand toying with the ring on her finger as she smiled sadly.

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him. Anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked her, and she frowned, thinking for a moment.

"Uh, well, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean," She offered, and there was a bit of an awkward pause.

"Um, I think, what our consultant was trying to say was: did he ever behave strangely?" She shook her head at my question without even having to think about it.

"No, no, never," Sam thanked her for her time, and we rose.

"It goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense," Sam spoke up from behind us as we descended the steps.

"Yeah, a middle aged dentist with an ulcers not exactly evil personified," We reached the bottom of the steps and made our way to the car. "You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage," I nodded, turning to look at both boys.

"Okay, but if we're going to do that, we need to look the part," I told them, not being able to hide the smile that slowly overtook my face. How long had it been since I'd gone shopping?

Two hours later I was sitting with my legs crossed, holding a magazine, flipping through it and looking for good styles. I was wearing a white button down shirt with a black blazer, but instead of wearing slacks, which I really didn't like, I was wearing fancy, dark skinny jeans with knee-high black boots. I looked professional, but still me. I could definitely get used to this whole Homeland Security thing. Dean walked out first, and I bit back a laugh as he turned to look in the mirror, not seeing me. I tossed the magazine back into the pile as I stood, grabbing one of the black ties that hung on the rack and walking over to him. He ran a hand through his hair, frowning at his reflection, and I couldn't help but laugh this time. His eyes caught mine in the mirror, and he smirked, turning and wiggling his eyebrows. I hooked the tie around his neck, flipping up his collar so I could tie it. I flipped down his collar, but instead of dropping my arms, I straightened them so my elbows rested on either side of his neck. I looked up, and instantly I was held captive by his green eyes.

"Would you like to go to prom with me, Melody Scott?" I laughed softly, which probably came out as more of a giggle, and pressed my lips to his briefly, feeling him smile into it, his hands coming to rest on my waist.

"I'd love to, Dean Winchester," He grinned, one of the rare, genuine grins that Dean reserved just for me and Sammy. He lowered his soft lips to mine, his hands slipping around my waist, and pressing me closer as my arms encircled his neck. He deepened the kiss, and my tongue explored the inside of his mouth, loving the taste and loving the feel of his lips on mine. It had been a month, and I still couldn't get over how much I loved being with him.

"I would tell you two to get a room," Sammy's voice made us break apart and Dean sigh in annoyance. "But yours was right next to mine," My eyes widened in surprise as he turned and walked to the cash register, leaving us in a stunned silence. I turned to Dean with a hand hovering in front of my mouth in shock.

"You don't think he…" Dean just uttered a half laugh, shaking his head at the kid before slipping an arm around my shoulders as we followed him to check out. A short five minutes later, Dean was pulling at the tie and collar of his suit in discomfort.

"Man, I look like one of the blues brothers," He complained as Sammy and I grinned, watching him. Sammy straightened his own tie, still smiling.

"No, you don't," I grinned at how uncomfortable he looked in the apparently itchy suit.

"Yeah," Sammy agreed, "You look more like a seventh-grader at his first dance," I laughed, turning it into an unconvincing cough as Dean glared at me. Sam laughed as Dean looked back and forth between us, wanting nothing more than to rip the thing off.

"I hate this thing," He told us shortly, turning to head back to the car.

"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?" Sam questioned him. Dean just looked unhappily at me and Sam before going around to the drivers seat. Sam and I exchanged a grin before I got into the passenger's seat, and he was stuck with the back. We arrived at the warehouse in an hour and a half, and we got out of the Impala, walking towards the building. Dean and I flashed our badges, but Sam kept his hidden in his pocket. We had made one for Sam in case we needed to be two places at once or something of the sort. The officer buzzed us in without questioning us. Dean pulled out the EMF as we walked around the wreckage, scanning everything.

"What is that?" Sam asked, and I glanced at him in temporary surprise before seeing his disgusted look and realizing why he asked.

"It's an E.M.F. meter," Dean explained to him as he put the piece in his ear. I didn't need the earphone, I could hear it from where I was standing next to him. "It reads electromagnetic frequencies," Dean finished unnecessarily.

"Yeah," Sam started, sounding annoyed. "I know what an E.M.F reader is, but why does that one look like a busted-up walkman?" Dean turn to look at him with a note of pride.

"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade," He told Sammy, who shifted.

"Yeah, I can see that," Sam replied snidely, causing me to fix him with a look before turning my attention back to the room around us. My eyes caught something, and a familiar feeling rose in my stomach.

"What's that?" I caught Dean's arm and led him over to the metal handle. The E.M.F. spiked.

"Check out the emergency door handle," Dean called to Sammy, who came over to us. I reached up to rub my finger over the whitish powder that was coating it. "What is this stuff?"

"One way to find out," Sam told us, flipping open his knife and scraping some of the substance off. I brought my fingers to my nose hesitantly before jerking it away quickly as the smell of rotting eggs filled my nose.

"Whatever it is, it smells awful," I muttered, coughing briefly. I heard heavy footsteps outside, and I was instantly on high alert, my eyes snapping to the door. "We need to go," Sam looked confused while I met Dean's eyes. He got the message. I hurried to the back door of the warehouse, and we slipped out just as the door banged open. We walked quickly, me smoothing down my shirt and blazer as we approached the gate. The alarm started blaring, forcing us to speed up. I looked at the gate and then down at my boots. Crap. Dean threw his jacket over the stretch of sharp wire at the top of the fence. The boys had no problem climbing over, and I was up the first side easily before swinging down and landing roughly, stumbling. Dean's arm was around my waist, steadying me before I could fall. He made sure I was standing stably before snatching his jacket off the top of the gate and turning to go.

"These monkey suits do come in handy," Was all he said before grinning and running off towards the car with me following as fast as I could. After our little adventure, we went back to Jerry to check the sample Sam had picked up from the handle.

"Huh," Jerry mused as he looked through the microscope. "The stuff is covered in sulfur,"

"You're sure?" Sam checked.

"Take a look for yourself," There was an angry banging from outside, and my eyes flicked to the worker in annoyance, trying to block out the deafening yells that were probably just mild background noise to everyone else. "Now, if you fellas will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire," I grinned as Jerry walked around us. I circled around the desk to take a look through the microscope, briefly flashing back to high school. I glanced up, nodding to Dean; it was definitely sulfur.

"Not too many things leave behind a sulfuric residue," Dean told us, and we both knew what he was getting at.

"Demonic possession?" Sam voiced the thought.

"It would explain the super strength," I added, glancing back down at the sulfur.

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible," Sam conceded, giving us a small shrug.

"Yeah, but this goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" He had a point.

"You two ever hear of something like this before?" Sam asked, and I shook my head.

"Never," Dean answered for both of us.

It had been three hours of solid research since we had paid for our hotel room. Pictures hung up on the walls of different plane crashes over the years, but so far we hadn't dug up much. Sam was typing away on his computer the same way he had been for three hours while I was sitting on the bed, flipping through a big book on Japanese demonic mythology and Dean was sitting on the other bed, leaning over the books that covered the bed I was sitting on and drinking a beer.

"So," Sam finally started, "Every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean, christian, native american, hindu - you name it,"

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean pointed out dejectedly.

"That's not exactly true," I told the two boys, flipping back to where I dogeared a few pages. "According to these Japanese beliefs, there are demons for every disaster, natural and man-made. So, there's an earthquake demon, a disease demon, and so on," I glanced up at Dean and then to Sam.

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked incredulously. "So, we have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah," Sam returned to his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys. "You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Dean glanced from Sammy to me before smirking slightly, shaking his head and turning away.

"What?" Sammy questioned before I could get the word out.

"I don't know. This isn't our normal gig," He explained, turning to face us again. "I mean, demons, they don't want anything - just death and destruction for it's own sake. I mean, this is big," He glanced at me then, and I saw a deep sadness in his eyes tinged with excitement at the prospect of the hunt. "I wish Dad was here," He looked down, scratching the back of his head. I glanced to Sam, seeing his face tighten just like it did whenever his dad was mentioned.

"Yeah," He agreed, "Me too," He glanced at me, and I gave him a half smile. Just then, the phone rang, and my stomach dropped. Not good news. Someone else was dead.

"Hello?" Dean answered, and Sam went back to his computer.

_Dean, it's Jerry._ I didn't even have to strain my ears anymore to pick up Jerry's voice on the other line.

"Oh, hey, Jerry," Dean sounded almost bored as he talked into the phone.

_My pilot friend… Chuck Lambert is dead._ Dean's head came up, his eyes widening in surprise, and he looked much more interested.

"Wha - Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" Sam turned his head in mild curiosity.

_He and his buddy went up in a small twin. About an hour ago. The plane went down._ I could hear the deep grief in his voice, and my heart went out to him.

"Where'd this happen?" Dean questioned, and I winced slightly at his insensitivity. I would really have to work on that.

_About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth._ He answered, his voice still thick.

"Well, I'll try to ignore the irony in that," I shot him a look, and he cleared his throat.

_I'm sorry? _Jerry asked in confusion.

"Nothing," He recovered. "Hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon," Dean promised, flipping down the phone and shoving it in his pocket.

"Another crash?" Sammy questioned.

"Yeah, let's go," Dean replied.

"Where?" I asked, knowing I should be curious because I didn't hear the conversation.

"Nazareth," Dean answered, fixing me with a look before glancing at Sam. We checked out the crime scene in record time; it took us about two minutes to get in, get a sample of the white substance that was stuck to the steering wheel, and get out. We came straight to Jerry's after that so he could double check what all of us already knew.

"Sulfur?" Dean prompted as Jerry looked up. He nodded in confirmation. "Well, that's just great. All right," Dean turned to where Sam and I were sitting, researching on the computer. "That's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him,"

"With all due respect to Chuck," Sam began cautiously. "If that's the case, that would be the good news,"

"What's the bad news," Sam and I exchanged a glance at Dean's question.

"Chuck's plane crashed exactly forty minutes after take off, and so did flight 2485," I explained, glancing between Dean and Jerry.

"40 minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked, lost.

"It's biblical numerology. Y'know, Noah's arc, it rained for 40 days. The number means death," Dean explained to him.

"We went back," Sam clicked on the back button on the computer to reveal all the plane crashes within the last decade. "And there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly 40 minutes in,"

"Any survivors?" We both shook our heads at Dean's question.

"No, or not until now, at least - not until flight 2485, for some reason," I bit my lip, mulling over the information. "On the cockpit voice recorder. Remember what the E.V.P. said?"

"No survivors," Dean recalled as it all clicked.

"It's targeting all the survivors," I realized, frowning slightly.

"It's trying to finish the job," Dean drove while Sam and I called all of the remaining survivors under various pretenses, trying to see if they were planning on flying in the near future.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at united britannia airlines. Thanks," Sammy finished, hanging up the phone, and crossing off two names. "That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon,"

"I already talked to Peter Simmons," I leaned up, resting my elbows on the front seat and pointing at the name under Dennis Holloway. Sam crossed that one out to with his red pen.

"Okay, so, our only wild card is the flight attendant Amanda Walker," Dean gathered. I had talked to her sister earlier, and we were currently on our way to the airport.

"Her sister, Karen, said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight o'clock. It's her first night back on the job," Sammy filled Dean in on what we already knew.

"That sounds like just our luck," Dean grumbled..

"Dean," I began, frowning uncertainly. "It's a five hour drive, even with your crazy speeding,"

"We'll make it," Dean answered firmly, and I trusted him one hundred percent that we would.

"All right," I turned to Sam, "Call Amanda, see if you can get her to change her flight," Sam scratched the back of his head in annoyance.

"I already left her three voice messages. She must've turned her cellphone off," Sammy was getting agitated, "God, we're never gonna make it,"

"Oh, we'll make it," There was the same dangerous note in Dean's voice that he used whenever he was dead set on something. He slammed on the gas, and I quickly pressed myself back into the leather seats. We made it to the airport in four hours and fifteen minutes give or take. We sprinted inside after Dean parked sloppily right in front, and we stopped at the arrival and departure screens.

"Right there," Sam pointed, and I followed his finger to the flight. "They're boarding in thirty minutes,"

"Okay," Dean panted slightly, "We still have some cards to play," I looked around us searchingly.

"We need to find a phone," I told them, spotting one and heading over quickly, picking it up.

"Airport services," The robotic voice came over the line.

"Hi, gate 13 please," The boys gathered around me as I spoke to the woman.

"Who are you calling, ma'am?" The woman asked.

"I'm trying to reach Amanda Walker," I waited for a moment before continuing when the woman didn't answer. "She should be a flight attendant on flight…" I glanced at Sammy who mouthed '424'. "424," I repeated to her.

"Please hold," There was silence on the line, and I tapped the wall with my hand impatiently, waiting for her to pick up.

"What's happening?" Dean asked, equally impatient, and Sam's face echoed his question. I opened my mouth to answer when there was a new voice on the line.

"This is Amanda Walker," I had honestly not thought about what I would say once she picked up - if she picked up - so I just said the first thing that popped into my head.

"Ms. Walker, this is Dr. Kelly Masters from St. Francis Memorial Hospital," I talked in a grave voice, looking away from the boys as they watched me. "We have a Ms. Karen Walker here,"

"Karen? What-" She sounded startled.

"Don't worry, it's nothing serious," I cut her off before she could begin to freak out, knowing I didn't have much time to stop her. "Just a minor car accident, but she will be needing surgery, so -"

"Wait, wait, wait, that's impossible," My face dropped as well as my heart when she said that. "I just got off the phone with her," My mouth worked but no sound came out.

"Um, what?" I asked dumbly, mentally kicking myself for the stupid response.

"Five minutes ago, she's at her house, cramming for a final," She began to grow more and more suspicious as she talked. "Who is this?"

"Um," I looked up at Dean and then Sam. "Well, there must be some mistake because-"

"And how would you even know I was here?" She interrupted me again. "Oh my god. Is this Vince's friend's girlfriend? He's getting his friend's girlfriend to call me now?"

"Yeah," I admitted, seeing no way out. "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to, but you know Vince," The boys' expressions were of absolute confusion.

"Wow. This is unbelievable," I immediately knew from her tone that he was her ex. "You tell him to mind his own business, and stay out of my life, okay?"

"Right, except, look," I wracked my brain to think of something to say, and I let the lie flow out of me. "He really needs to see you tonight, okay?"

"No, I'm sorry, it's too late," She told me with an air of finality.

"Look, I don't usually do this, okay?" I tried to play the friends card. "Call up my boyfriend's friend's ex, but you should see him. I mean, the guys a mess, really. It's pathetic. I felt bad for him, all right? He really needs to see you tonight,"

"Really?" Her voice had softened considerably.

"Yeah, he needs to see you," I repeated, hoping she'd relent.

"Look, I've got to go. Tell him to call me when I land," Amanda told me.

"No, no, hey, wait," I tried, but I heard the deafening click of her hanging up. "Amanda? Amanda," I took the phone away from my ear, and sighed in frustration before shaking my head at the boys and hanging up.

"Damn it," Dean snapped, and I knew part of the reason he was so aggravated. He was terrified of planes. "So close," I looked down, knowing what was coming.

"All right, time for plan 'B'. We're getting on that plane," Sam told us, looking determined.

"Now, just hold on a second," Dean stammered.

"Dean, that plane's leaving with over 100 passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash," Sam went through the facts, trying to convince a wide-eyed Dean that getting on was the best plan.

"Sam's right," I spoke up, and Dean turned to me with desperation in his eyes, "We need get on that plane, so we can the demon, and exorcize it,"

"Right," Sam agreed eagerly. "Look, I'll get the tickets. You two just go, get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever'll make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes," Dean's face had gone five shades paler in the time it took Sam to say those words, and Sam frowned at his older brother, glancing at me for an explanation before looking back. "Are you okay?" Dean shrugged, looking away before looking from me to Sam.

"No, not really," Dean admitted, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, and looking around for any excuse.

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…" Dean trailed off.

"Flying," I finished for him, glancing at Sam. "He has a fear of flying,"

"Well, I wouldn't call it a fear," Dean stumbled over the words, looking back and forth between us. Sam's face showed sheer disbelief. "Well, it's never really been an issue until now,"

"You're joking, right?" Sam questioned incredulously.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Dean snapped at him, looking unhappy and uncomfortable. "Why do you think we drive everywhere, Sam?" Sam just stared at him and then at me and then blinked a few times.

"Uh, all right, we'll go," I met Sam's eyes in a brief surprise before nodding. It made sense.

"What?" Dean asked in faint shock.

"Mel and I, we'll do this one on our own," Dean's eyes flicked back and forth between Sam and I disbelievingly.

"What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash," He snapped at us.

"Which is why we have to stop it," I spoke up, feeling as though the conversation had just made a big loop. "Look, it's fine, Sammy and I can do this one. We'll exorcize the demon, and then take a flight back in the morning," I left Dean's side to walk over to Sam, but was stopped by a tight grip on my arm as Dean stopped me.

"Forget it," Dean wrapped a possessive arm around my waist, meeting Sam's gaze. Sammy looked smug, like he had known this was gonna happen. "Really?" Dean whined as he finally came to the conclusion he had no other option. Sam just turned and started walking towards the check-in desk. Dean looked down at me hopefully as if I would tell him that this was just a joke.

"Sorry, babe," I offered him, planting a brief kiss on his jawline before turning to face him, smiling slightly. "We're going to be fine, okay?" Dean gazed into my eyes searchingly for a moment before nodding.

"All right," He replied.

-30 minutes later-

I was sitting in between Sam and Dean while the latter pretended to be intrigued by an inflight magazine. I turned to find a smug looking Sammy trying not to laugh at how obviously scared Dean was. I shot him a look, and he gave a halfhearted shrug of apology before glancing back at Dean.

"Just try to relax," Sammy advised.

"Just try to shut up," Dean responded snappishly. Sam just turned away to hide a grin as the plane started picking up speed, and Dean put away the inflight magazine. Without looking at me, Dean grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together and holding it tightly. I squeezed his hand back, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay. The plane lifted off the ground smoothly, and his hand loosened fractionally before there was a mechanical sound and he tightened his hold again.

"It's just the wheels. It's normal," I spoke softly and calmly to him, making his hold loosen slightly. He looked at me, but his eyes slid past me to fix on Sammy, a pissed look overtook his face, but he didn't say anything. Dean started humming Metallica, but I barely noticed. He's had a habit of doing that since before I could remember; it calms him down and over the years, it's started to calm me down too.

"You're humming Metallica?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Calms me down," Dean answered, and Sam scoffed.

"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused," Sam told him calmly, glancing at his watch. "I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down - or whoever it's possessing, anyway - and perform a full on exorcism,"

"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy," Dean snapped back sarcastically.

"Listen, take it one step at a time, all right?" I cut in, knowing Dean needed to refocus. "Right now, we have to find who it's possessing,"

"Well, it's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness. You know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through, somebody with an addiction or emotional distress," Dean was slowly starting to switch back into hunter mode.

"Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the accident. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up," Sam pointed out as a flight attendant walked by.

"Excuse me," Dean stopped her. "Are you Amanda?" She just smiled and shook her head.

"No, I'm not," She told us.

"Oh, my mistake," Dean apologized as she continued down the aisle. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so we'll go talk to her, and, uh, we'll get a read on her mental state," Dean spoke to Sam, glancing at me.

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam questioned.

"There's ways to test that," Dean told him, letting go of my hand and opening his bag. He held up a plastic container. "We brought holy water," I took the water from Dean and stuffed it back in the bag, zipping it.

"No, we have to go more subtle than that," I told them both. "If she is possessed then she'll flinch at God's name," Dean pointed to me.

"Nice," He unbuckled and got up, and I followed him, leading him down the aisle.

"Mel," Sam stopped us using my name, and we turned back to face him.

"Say it in latin," He advised.

"Yeah, we know," I told him, getting annoyed. We'd been doing this longer than he had. We started walking again when Dean grabbed my hand, stopping me as Sam called us back.

"What?" Dean hissed in exasperation as Sam just looked at us.

"Uh, in latin, it's 'Cristo'," Dean and I both glared at Sam as he patronized us.

"Dude, we know, we're not idiots," We made our way towards the back of the plane. Suddenly, the plane bounced slightly and shook, and, before I knew what was happening, Dean had both his arms tightly around my waist, and his forehead pressed into top of my head.

"You're okay," I whispered as the first officer came over the intercom. "Come on," I gently took one of his hands and started walking, and, thankfully, he followed.

"Hi," I greeted the flight attendant as we reached the back where she was prepping a cart.

"Hi," She smiled brightly at us. "Can I help you two with something?" She questioned, confusion laced in her kind voice.

"Oh, no," I offered her a smile. "My boyfriend here is kind of an uneasy flier. Makes him feel better to walk around a bit," Her smile widened as she took in our joint hands.

"It's okay, it happens to the best of us," Amanda told us.

"Of course, you being a stewardess. I guess flying comes easy to you," Dean told her, and she laughed uneasily, raising her eyebrows.

"You'd be surprised," She shook her head, not looking up from where she was fixing the cups.

"Really?" Dean questioned in surprise. "You're a nervous flier?"

"Yeah, maybe - a little bit," She glanced between us, smiling again.

"How are you a stewardess, then? If you're scared to fly?" I asked her, already knowing the answer.

"Kind of a long story," She replied, making it clear she didn't really feel like talking about it.

"Right, sorry for asking," I apologized, but she waved it off.

"It's fine," She looked down at the napkins she was now sorting through with regret filled eyes.

"You ever consider other employment?" Dean broke the awkward pause. She considered the question carefully for a second before raising her eyes to meet ours determinedly.

"No," She answered. "Look, everybody's scared of something. I just, uh… I'm not gonna let it hold me back," This conversation was going nowhere. I seemed to reach that realization at the same time Dean did for he muttered 'Cristo' under his breath. I watched Amanda carefully for any sign of a reaction. She just looked confused. "I'm sorry, did you say something?" She asked us.

"Cristo?" I offered, louder so she could hear. She just stared at me in confusion as I gave her an awkward smile, turning away to face Dean instead.

"Nothing. Never mind," Without another word he led me back through the curtain and down the aisle. I slid into my seat with Dean close behind me as Sammy looked at us questioningly. "All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet,"

"You said Cristo? And?" Sammy prompted, and I shook my head.

"Nothing," I reported. "If there's a demon on this plane, it won't target her unless she has some strange addiction we don't know about," Sammy smiled faintly, but it faded as he refocused on the problem.

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone… anywhere," Sammy mused while I nodded, looking around. The plane shook, and Dean's hand tightened around mine.

"Come on! That can't be normal!" He complained.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence," Sam told him calmly. Dean turned a glare on him.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, so quit treating me like I'm friggin' four," Dean snapped at him while Sam just gazed at Dean, which pissed him off more.

"You need to calm down," Sam stated in the most relaxed voice I think I'd ever heard from Sam.

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't," Dean bit back, irrationally angry.

"Yes, you can," I was beginning to feel squished and awkward in the middle of the brother's argument. Sam was leaning slightly over me to speak to Dean, and Dean was glaring at him from his seat.

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help, yoga crap. It's not helping," Dean's voice was panicky and angry all at the same time, and I was growing worried for him.

"Stop it," I hissed, pushing Sam back into his seat with a hand on his chest. "Dean, he's right. Right now, you're panicked and open for demonic possession, so you need to calm down," Dean looked at me uncertainly and then glared past me at Sammy.

"I hate it when she agrees with you," I smiled at those words, and Dean turned back to look at me, taking a deep, forced breath. His hand relaxed slightly in mine, but he didn't let go.

"Good, now, I found an exorcism that I think is gonna work - the Ritual Romano," Sam explained, and I leaned over his shoulder to see the page.

"What do we have to do?" Dean asked him.

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful,"

"More powerful?" I questioned in disbelief, glancing disturbing picture in the book to Sammy, "How?"

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore," Sam explained. "It can just wreak havoc on its own,"

"Oh, and why is that a good thing?" Dean questioned sharply.

"Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all," Sam answered, and I nodded.

"First things first - we got to find it," Dean said, getting the E.M.F. out of the bag, and putting in the earphones, going to the back. I combed the aisle behind Dean, which came up with absolutely jack. There was a sudden hand on my shoulder, and I jumped slightly, turning quickly only to see Sam's grinning face. I shoved him.

"Jerk," I muttered as he laughed. "Don't do that to me,"

"Anything?" He questioned, getting down to business. I shook my head as Dean answered for us.

"No, nothing. How much time we got?"

"15 minutes," Sam told us, glancing down at his watch. "Maybe we missed somebody,"

"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane," Dean suggested hopefully.

"You believe that?" Sam questioned, and Dean glanced back and forth between us.

"Well, I will if you will," I opened my mouth to answer when I heard the E.M.F. go off and turned to face the cockpit to see the copilot coming out of the bathroom.

"Cristo," I whispered, ignoring Sammy's questions, and watched as the copilot opened the cockpit door before turning, his eyes black as night. "We have to go back and tell Amanda," I was the first one to speak after the door clicked shut.

"Tell her what?" Sam scoffed, not believing that we should.

"Everything," I answered, and, without waiting for their consent, I turned and headed for the back of the plane.

"Everything?" Sam echoed, hurrying after me. "She's never gonna believe that! What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking, we have twelve minutes, and we need a place to perform the exorcism," I hissed back, not breaking stride until I got to the back where Amanda was sorting through the things on her trolly.

"Oh, hi, flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope?" She smiled kindly at us while Sam closed the curtain tightly.

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about," Dean began, glancing uncertainly at me, and I nodded. This was the quickest way to get what we needed.

"Uh, okay? What can I do for you?" She asked.

"This is going to sound crazy," I started, shifting my feet. This sounded a lot easier in my head.

"Listen," Dean saved me from having to finish. "We really don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there' speech right now,"

"Alright, look, we know that you were on flight 2485," Sam took over for him. Amanda's face fell and turned cold and distrusting.

"Who are you guys?" She questioned suspiciously.

"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane, and it wasn't mechanical failure,"

"And we need your help to stop it from happening again. Here. Now," Dean finished urgently, but Amanda shook her head.

"I'm sorry. I'm very busy." She lied, trying to push through the guys, but Dean stopped her easily.

"Wait a second, okay?" I stepped in between the guys to block her exit out. "We're not going to hurt you, I promise. Just listen, the pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert? - he's dead," Amanda looked stunned for a moment.

"Wait, what? Chuck is dead?" She shook her head, trying to come to grips with what we were telling her.

"He died in a plane crash," Dean informed her harshly. "Now that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now, maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't, but there's something wrong with this flight, too," Sam told her seriously.

"Amanda, please, you have to believe what we're telling you," I begged her, my eyes hard and unforgiving.

"On…" She put a hand to her head as if the memory were painful. "On 2485, there was this man. He… he had these eyes," Sam's eyes lit up as she spoke.

"Yes," He interrupted her. "That's exactly what we're talking about,"

"Well, I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?" She questioned.

"Get the copilot, we need you to bring him back here," Dean instructed her, and she glanced around like the room would give her the answer.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?" She asked, sensing the urgency, but not wanting to accept it.

"We really don't have time to explain everything right now, but we need to talk to him," I told her, hoping she'd just go get him.

"But, how am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the copilot - "

"Do whatever it takes," Sammy interrupted her. We had 10 minutes left. "Tell him there's something broken back here. Whatever will get him out of that cockpit,"

"Do you know that I could loose my job if you - " She started heatedly.

"Okay, well, you're gonna loose a lot more than that if you don't help us out," Dean's words seemed to finally push her over the edge, and she drew a few short breaths before nodding her consent.

"Okay," She agreed, and I moved in front of Dean to get out of the exit as she walked past us. We watched through the curtain as she walked down the aisle towards the door and knocked. I moved away from the curtain; I could hear them talking from here anyways. I stood out of the way as Sam and Dean positioned themselves on either side of the curtain, ready to tackle him when he came in. Dean tossed me the duct tape, and I drew a piece out as Sam readied himself with the holy water and book.

"Yeah? What's the problem?" The copilot asked, coming through the curtain. Dean punched him straight across the face, making him crash into the emergency door before Dean grabbed his feet, dragging him into the middle of the room. Dean grabbed a fistful of his shirt and slammed him into the ground. I duck taped his mouth shut as Amanda protested behind us.

"You said you were just going to talk to him!"

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean replied as I pinned his arm under my knee, grabbing the holy water from Sam and pouring it all over his chest, wincing as he started burning.

"We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain," Sam ordered her, "Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that?" She was full on freaking out now.

"Amanda," I snapped, earning her full attention. "Just breathe, okay? Everything's going to be fine, but we need you outside that curtain. Make sure no one comes in, all right?" She nodded, blinking rapidly and turning to go exit the curtain. I returned my attention to where Dean was punching the fiend across the face as hard as he could.

"Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer I can hold him," I poured the rest of the water on him as Sam started speaking the words in latin. One of the demon's flailing arms hit the water bottle out of my hands, and it skidded across the floor. I scrambled after it, but was slammed into the wall as Dean crashed down on top of me. I wriggled out from under him, and he pushed himself up, grabbing the demon and pinning him again. I snatched the holy water from the floor and hurried back to the demon, pouring more on him. He grunted in pain, and slammed his hands into Dean's chest, sending him sprawling. He grabbed Sam's collar, yanking him closer.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend!" The demon spoke chillingly, and I froze in momentary surprise. "She must've died screaming. Even now she's burn-" He was cut off with a gurgle as I jammed the water bottle into his mouth and emptied the rest of the contents directly down it's throat. Moving quickly, I slapped the duct tape back on before he could scream, and his back arched in agony.

"Sam!" I snapped as Dean straddled the possessed man again. I threw the water bottle into the corner, and focused on pinning his arm under my body weight while Sam finished part one of the exorcism. I grabbed the man's head as he thrashed and Dean and Sam held both of his arms. I could hear the demon giggling with delight at being free. It's giggle sent chills down my spine and made me shiver violently. It slunk away into an air vent, and I turned to Sam.

"Where'd it go?" He questioned. We were out of time. He needed to finish it now.

"He's in the plane," Dean's voice held a note of urgency to it. "Hurry up. We got to finish it," I shot to my feet, starting towards the curtain when the plane dropped sickeningly, throwing me against Dean, who was pressed against the emergency exit. I braced myself against the wall, managing to push myself off of Dean and get to the curtain with Dean following before I was thrown back against him into the emergency exit door. I felt Dean's arms tightly around my waist, and I turned to press my face into his leather jacket. Dean was shaking and screaming, pressing me against him, and I fisted my hands into his shirt, hearing his heart pounding wildly.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to zone out all the screaming and the yelling and focus solely on Sam. Faintly, I heard him speaking latin, and almost smiled in relief. We were going to be okay. He was finishing it. There was a flash of light, and the plane gave a giant shake before evening out.

"Are you all right?" Dean asked me as he slowly straightened, and I looked up at him. His hands were on my face, his thumbs running over my cheeks, and his eyes searching me intensely to make sure I was okay. In answer to his question, I nodded, and he nodded back, and then we were kissing desperately. I pulled away first, swallowing hard.

"For the record, I'd take your driving any day," I told him, smiling slightly up at him as he gave a laugh of relief. My face suddenly dropped, "Sammy," I hurried to the curtain as his arms fell away from my waist and he followed. Sammy stood in front of us when we opened the curtain to look out at the plane. I let out a breath of relief when I saw him standing there. They were both okay.

About forty minutes later, we were getting off the plane back at Gate 13, for the plane had turned around. Sam, Dean, and I watched Amanda give her statement to the FBI man. 'Thank you' She mouthed to us, and we nodded in return.

"Let's get out of here," Dean told us, and I couldn't have agreed more. I walked between him and Sammy, studying Sammy's face with pity and worry.

"You alright?" I questioned, and he stared at me intently for a moment before turning to face Dean and I.

"Guys, it knew about Jessica," Sam told us.

"Sam, t-these things, they read minds. They lie," Dean explained quickly. "All right? That's all it was. Come on," He started walking away, and I put my hand on Sam's shoulder comfortingly.

"He's right, Sam. That demon would've said anything to get to you in there," I offered him a sad smile before following Dean.

One long car ride later we were back at Jerry's hangar. We'd already packed up all our stuff from the motel and tossed it into the back of the Impala. This was our last stop before we hit the road to find a new evil thing to hunt.

"Nobody knows what you three did, but I do," Jerry told us, nodding. "A lot of people could have been killed. You're dad's gonna be real proud," He spoke the last part to Sam and Dean before smiling brightly at me and shaking Sam's hand.

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam smiled as Jerry shook my hand and then Dean's.

"You take good care of her, Dean," Dean just grinned at him, wrapping an arm around my waist. Jerry just smiled and walked back towards the planes. I opened the passenger door, trying to stop smiling as Dean walked around to the drivers.

"Hey, Jerry! I meant to ask you," Dean called him back. "How did you get my cell phone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months,"

"Your dad gave it to me," My heart froze, and my gaze snapped to Jerry's face. Why hadn't he mentioned that before?

"Well, when did you talk to him?" Dean questioned eagerly.

"Well, I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voicemail said to give you a call, or if I couldn't reach you, to call Melody," Me? We drove for about five minutes when Dean pulled over to the side of the road and got out. I got out as well and joined him as he leaned on the hood of the car. Sammy coming to lean next to me.

"This doesn't make any sense," Sam started. "I've called dad's number like 50 times. It's been out of service," I heard it ring for a couple of moments before John's voice came over the line.

_This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean - 785-555-0179 or Melody - 785-292-7469. They can help._

The silence stretched on for a moment, and Sam got up first, getting into the back stormily. I followed him, getting into the passenger's seat, and Dean got into the driver's seat, starting the ignition. One thought bounced around with annoying persistence in my mind. If John was telling people to call us, that meant he wasn't working jobs anymore. So what the hell was he doing?


	5. Bloody Mary

****Please review with favorite quotes or ideas or just things you like about the characters! Thank you so much for reading and following this story! It means so much to me, so thank you! Review!****

_Bloody Mary_

"Sam!" Dean snapped urgently, shaking a panting Sammy harshly. "Wake up!" Sam's head snapped up, and he looked at us with big, frightened doe eyes. It only took him a moment to regain his emotions, but both Dean and I had seen the fear. We were worried about him. He'd been having nightmares for months now, and that was just when he bothered sleeping.

"I take it I was having a nightmare?" Sam questioned, glancing between me and Dean.

"Yeah," I answered, frowning slightly in concern. "Another one," I added pointedly, making Sam glance away.

"Hey, at least I got some sleep," He attempted to lighten the mood with a grin.

"Hey, you know, sooner or later, we're gonna have to talk about this," Dean told him, and I made a mental note to ask Sam about it later. It was going too far now.

"Are we here?" Sam changed the subject, glancing past me and out the rear windshield to look at the hospital we were parked in front of.

"Yea," I ignored his obvious discomfort with the subject of his nightmares. "Toledo Ohio general hospital," Sammy grabbed the paper from the glove compartment, and I rested my elbows on the front seats, scanning the article over Sammy's shoulder.

"So, what do you think really happened to this guy?" Sam cut to the chase, studying the grainy picture of a man in his mid forties that was circled in black sharpie.

"That's what we're gonna find out," I glanced up to see Dean giving us a cheeky smile as he opened the door and climbed out. "Let's go," I opened the backseat door and stretched my legs, standing. Five hour car trips are the worst. Dean has a rule that we break every five hours or so, which means that if it were six hours, we would've stopped for food. Instead, my stomach was growling, and we were jumping right into the case that we came to Toledo for.

We walked through the deserted hallways of the hospital's second floor, which was where they kept the morgue. I was in between Sam and Dean as the three of us walked in a comfortable silence. I mulled over the newspaper article, mentally checking off things that it could be. Demon and anything to do with water was out, which meant it was most likely humanoid. We ducked inside the door that had Morgue 144 hanging over it. Inside was the most stereotypical hospital room that I'd ever seen. There were big windows that had blinds pulled down over them, making the light turn a grayish color as it filtered through. It was mostly an empty room except for the occasional chair or table and the two desks that was set up by the wall. One desk was deserted and behind the other sat a man that looked to be in his mid twenties wearing a light green hospital scrub.

"Hey," Was all the greeting we got as the man spotted us. He had a phone that was held to his ear, and his eyes skipped over Sam and Dean to land on me before hanging up the phone.

"Hey," Dean replied a bit stiffly. Sammy came to stand in front of the desk while I stood at one of his shoulder and Dean at his other, regarding the man, who was clearly an intern.

"Can I help you?" The man asked not unkindly, although he was still looking me up and down, seeming to direct the question more to me than either of the boys.

"Yeah," Dean cleared his throat loudly, earning the man's attention and forcing me to fight back a smile. "We're the, uh, Med students,"

"Sorry?" The man raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Oh, Doctor Fliglavitch didn't tell you?" Every word out of Dean's mouth made him sound less and less like a med student. The man frowned, glancing at me and then at Sam before looking back at Dean. "We talked on the phone. We're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper,"

"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch," The man told us, clearly not believing a word of the bullshit Dean was trying to feed him.

"Oh, well, he said, uh…" He trailed off, glancing at Sammy and me, who both turned to look at him. "Oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't," The man told us shortly. "Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him, if you want," He said it like he knew we couldn't wait for him.

"An hour?" Dean sucked in a breath, shaking his head slightly. "We got to be heading back to Columbus by then," Sam and I nodded doubtfully while I formulated a plan B in my head. "Look, man, this paper's half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out,"

"Oh, look, man, no," The man replied mockingly. Dean let out a half laugh of annoyance and turned around.

"I'm gonna hit him in his face, I swear," Dean practically growled, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam start reaching for his wallet.

"Look, I wanted to come earlier this week, but these two idiots kept stalling," I took a step closer to the desk and in front of Sam while rolling my eyes. "This paper is worth half of my grade, and I have worked the entire semester to have an A in anatomy. These two imbeciles are not going to ruin that, so, please," The entire time I'd been talking, I had been moving closer to the desk, and now I rested my hands on it. "Help me out here. I can't fail the class," I held the man's gaze for a few moments before his eyes flicked to my chest and back up, and he swallowing hard.

"Fine," He stood up, giving the two boys behind me a harsh glare and turning. "Follow me," Sammy followed him, and I had barely gone two steps when Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Don't do that again," I turned with a small smile on my face, but it disappeared when I saw the dark look on his face.

"Why not? It was a lot better than bribing him," I reasoned, and Dean glared in the direction Sam and the man had gone. "Are you jealous?" I asked incredulously. Honestly, I kind of liked the idea of Dean being jealous, and I had to bite back a smile as he snapped his glare to me.

"What? No! Of course not!" He denied immediately, making me laugh a bit. "I'm not," He insisted, frowning a bit. I shifted my weight to my toes and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, pulling away as he started to respond.

"Come on," I smiled, resisting the urge to take his hand, knowing that if I did the intern would be angry.

"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding," Dean and I came to stand next to Sammy, and I offered the intern a smile.

"More than that," The man gripped the edge of the cloth that covered the corpse on the table and pulled it back, revealing the man's face. "It practically liquified," The man's eye sockets were holes filled with dried blood.

"Any sign of a struggle?" Dean asked him. "Maybe someone did it to him?" I tore my eyes from the horrible sight to look at the intern, who was shaking his head.

"Nope. Besides the daughter he was all alone," He replied, looking down at the corpse with an intrigued glint in his eyes that I didn't like.

"What're they saying?" I asked him.

"Well, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm. Something burst up there. That's for sure,"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, frowning at the reply.

"Intense cerebral bleeding," The intern answered, grinning like it was christmas. "The guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen,"

"But the eyes," Sam got back to the main cause of death. "What would cause something like that?" The intern shook his head, just as confused as us.

"Capillaries can burst, see a lot of blood shot eyes with stroke victims," He listed.

"Yeah, you ever seen exploding eyeballs?" Dean questioned with a note of arrogance.

"That's a first for me. But, hey, I'm not the doctor," The intern grinned at us.

"Think we could take a look at that police report? You know, for, uh, our paper." Dean lied unconvincingly, giving the intern a cocky grin.

"Think I could have your number?" The intern gave me a suggestive grin as he spoke, and I forced myself to smile back. Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Dean's arms wrapped around my waist tightly, pressing me into his chest.

"Dude, seriously, back off," He growled at the intern, and I didn't have to look up to know that he was glaring at the man, who took a surprised step back.

"How's this," Sam sounded torn between amused and annoyed as he handed a hundred dollar bill. The intern took the money and walked out, glaring at Dean as he went.

"I earned that!" Dean protested, turning his glare on Sam.

"Well, would you have rather Mel gave him her number?" Sam replied, grinning at the two of us, and I hit him in the shoulder.

"Don't objectify me, Sammy!" I snapped at him, making him laugh slightly as the man came back with the reports, handing them to us before showing us out.

"It might not be one of our things. Might just be some freak medical thing," Dean's hand was in mine as we descended the steps next to Sammy.

"How many times in dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Was Dean's reply to Sammy's wishful thinking.

"Uh, almost never?" Sam guessed.

"Exactly," I pointed out. "So, we should probably start by talking to the daughter," We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I rode passenger to the Shoemaker's house.

The door was open, and I could practically feel the grief hanging in the air. The table was set up as a memorial to the man that had died, and the house was full of men and women wearing dark clothing. The kitchen counters were filled with casseroles, and I could hear at least ten separate condolences being given.

"Feel like we're underdressed," Dean stated, and I just rolled my eyes.

"Come on," I walked over to a man dressed in a black suit and tie who looked grave. "Excuse me, do you know where Mr. Shoemaker's daughter is? We'd like to give our condolences," I smiled sadly at the man, and he nodded, squeezing my shoulder comfortingly before leading us outside and pointing.

"Thanks," Dean told him as we began walking over to the three girls who were sitting together. "You must be Donna, right?" Dean asked the girl with the short, black hair who was being comforted by her blonde friend.

"Yeah," She answered, glancing between the three of us in confusion.

"Hi, uh, we're really sorry," Sam began, and Donna nodded graciously.

"Thank you,"

"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Mel," I offered her a small smile, which she returned. "We worked with your dad,"

"You did?" Donna glanced at her friend and then back at us skeptically, her eyes flicking back and forth between us.

"Yeah. This whole thing. I mean a stroke," Dean shook his head as if he was grief stricken. I saw girl who was sitting next to Donna flick her eyes up to study Dean's face as Dean spoke the word stroke.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," Donna's friend cut in protectively.

"It's okay," Donna reassured her, "I'm okay,"

"Were there ever any symptoms of it?" Donna looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "I mean, it was so sudden…" Of their own accord, my eyes had drifted away from Donna to rest on the younger girl, who had looked up when Dean mentioned the stroke.

"No," Donna replied, shaking her head.

"That's because it wasn't a stroke," The girl cut in, turning to look at what I assume was her older sister.

"Lily, don't say that!" Donna admonished her.

"What?" I asked, glancing at the young girl to see the troubled look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset," Donna told us.

"No, it happened because of me," Lily insisted, still gazing at her older sister.

"Sweetie, it didn't," I opened my mouth to say something when Sam beat me to it.

"Lily, why would you say something like that?" He asked her, and she hesitated.

"Right before he died, I said it," She told him, a look of seriousness on her face, as if that should make everything clear.

"You said what?" Sam prompted, giving her his doe eyes and kneeling in front of her.

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror," I glanced at Dean to see him look at me with a boyish grin that made me smile. "She took his eyes, that's what she does,"

"That's not why dad died. This isn't your fault," Donna tried to convince Lily, who looked up with a scared, regretful expression.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary," Dean told her, and I offered her a comforting smile as she looked at me with wide eyes. "Your dad didn't say it, did he?"

"No, I don't think so," Lily bit her lip and looked down, not convinced.

"Well, our condolences," Dean wrapped up our chat with them. "About your dad. Terrible. He was a good guy," With that, Sam, Dean, and I went back into the house. We walked up the stairs to the second floor, where the bathroom was that Mr. Shoemaker died in. Sam pushed open the door to reveal some dried blood on the tiled floor that had yet to be cleaned up.

"The Bloody Mary legend. Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam questioned, glancing at us.

"Not that we know of," Dean answered for both of us as I stepped into the room and flicked on the lights.

"I mean, everywhere else," Sam started, crouching down to brush his hand along the black powder that was strewn over the floor. "All over the country, kids have played Bloody Mary. And as far as we know, nobody dies from it,"

"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening," Dean suggested.

"Could be the place where the legend began," I offered, glancing at Sammy as Dean opened the mirror cabinet.

"But according to the legend, the person who says…" He trailed off, glancing uncertainly at the mirror before pushing it closed and glaring at Dean. "The person who says 'you know what' gets it, but here,"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah," Dean agreed. "Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror."

"And the daughter is right," I added, glancing at the mirror, a sudden feeling of guilt overcoming me, making me frown. "The way the story goes, 'you know who' scratches your eyes out,"

"It's worth checking into," Sam muttered, and my head snapped up as I the clicking of heels coming down the hallway.

"Someone's coming," I whispered, rushing to the door and turning to see the blonde woman that had been comforting Donna before.

"What are you doing up here? I thought you said you were leaving," She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"We… we had to go to the bathroom," Dean came up with what might've been the worst excuse he had ever used.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Like we said downstairs we worked with Donna's dad," Dean recovered, giving her a cocky smile.

"He was a day trader or something, he worked by himself,"

"No, I know, I meant-" Dean stammered, trying to buy time.

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that?" She fired the questions at us one after the other. Finally, she folded her arms across her chest, and pursed her lips at us, "So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming,"

"All right, all right," My gaze snapped to Sammy. He couldn't be serious. "We think something happened to Donna's dad," He was serious.

"Yeah, a stroke," The blonde told us.

"That's not the sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else," Sam told her, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Telling people never worked. It was the worst option.

"Like what?" The blonde asked, intrigued.

"We don't really know yet," I told her, glancing at Sammy.

"But we don't want it to happen to anyone else," Sammy finished earnestly. "That's the truth," It was hard not to trust Sammy when he got all little kid on you.

"So," Dean's hard voice interrupted Sam's stare down with the girl. "If you're gonna scream, go right ahead," She looked down, debating for a moment before looking up at us again.

"Who are you, cops?" She asked us.

"Something like that," Dean answered cryptically. Suddenly, I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach looking at the blonde that stood before me.

"Here," I took out a piece of paper from Sam's notepad and scrawled a number on it quickly, handing it to the young woman. "If you or anyone you know sees anything strange. Give us a call," She took the paper, barely glancing at the number. I walked past her without a second look and headed down the stairs, hearing both of the boys following me.

"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof, right? A local woman who died nasty," Dean spoke up as we walked through the library.

"Yeah, but a legend this widespread, it's hard," Sam told him.

"Sam's right, there's about a hundred different versions of the same myth. One says witch, another says ghost," I listed, my eyes flicking between the two boys.

"So what are we supposed to be looking for?" Dean asked us. With each passing hunt I was starting to feel more and more like the old us. Like Sammy never left. Only this time we didn't have John to call and give updates to every three hours.

"Well, every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror," Sam informed us. "So we've got to search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill,"

"Well, that sounds annoying," Dean sighed.

"Nah, it won't be so bad, as long as we…" Sam trailed off, and I followed his gaze to the computers with the big 'out of order' signs taped to their screens.

"You were saying?" I raised my eyebrow, looking up at Sammy, who huffed, running a hand through his hair.

"I take it back. This will be very annoying," Sam stated the obvious, and I frowned, looking at the computers in annoyance.

It had been seven hours since we'd rented the hotel room, and we still had jack on Mary and the murders. We'd gotten one hotel room this time, figuring that none of us would get much sleep. I was sitting sideways on a chair with a book on my lap while Dean sat across the small table on another chair. I was fairly certain it was a ghost that was killing these things, and that was pretty much it. I found myself looking over the top of the book I was skimming at a sleeping Sam. I frowned at the kid but quickly blinked away the feeling of trepidation that had been gnawing at my stomach. I glanced over at Dean to see him gazing at Sammy with a frown etched into his handsome features.

"I think I should talk to him," I spoke softly, breaking the silence. I met Dean's green eyes steadily as they studied me intently. "I'm worried about him, Dean, and I know you're worried too,"

"Sammy's a big boy, he'll deal with it," I scoffed at Dean's words, rolling my eyes and feeling a twinge of annoyance. "What?" I looked back at him to see him frowning slightly.

"You," I told him, "How many times do I need to remind you that your whole macho big brother act doesn't work on me?"

"I don't have a macho big brother act," He denied, but he was smiling slightly. I love it when Dean smiles. Really smiles, not the fake one he feeds people that he's lying to.

"You can act tough for Sammy, Dean, but I can see right through you," I told him, glancing back at my book and fighting a smile. "You're worried about him,"

"I'm not. He'll be fine. He always is," I glanced at Dean, who had an unconcerned look plastered onto his face. Without bothering to think, I crumpled my notes into a ball and threw it at him. It hit Dean in the nose, and he looked at me with a mixture of shock and mischief. I returned my gaze to my book and heard him get up. I let Dean slide the book from my hands and put it on the table before I looked up into his eyes. "He'll be fine," Dean repeated, giving me a cocky grin as I folded my arms over my chest. "I'm not worried,"

"Why don't I believe you?" I asked softly, feeling his hot breath on my cheek, and gazing into his deep, green eyes. His lips twitched up into a smile, which made the worry hidden behind his eyes all the more clear.

"Because you know me," He kissed me softly, leaning us both against the wall behind me. He pulled away suddenly, and gave a chuckle, leaning his forehead against mine. "I can have another room in five minutes?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Make it three," I pressed my lips against his quickly before he pulled away and strode towards the door. A sharp gasp stopped him as Sam lay panting on the bed and very much awake. Dean met my eyes, and, for a moment, everything in his eyes was laid bare. There was annoyance battling with worry and a hint of fear. Then, his defenses slammed down, and his eyes grew hard. He crossed the room and fell into the chair across from me again, and I couldn't help the twinge of disappointment. Okay, maybe it was more than a twinge.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" Sam's voice sounded hoarse with emotion which only led to make me more concerned for the kid.

"Cause Mel's an awesome friend," Dean answered him. I had told Dean to let him sleep even though Dean had wanted to wake him. Sam had needed the sleep even if it was riddled with nightmares. I gave Dean a pointed glance, and his eyes flicked to Sammy and back. "I'm going to go get some food. There's a diner down the street," Dean grabbed his jacket from where it was hung by the door. "You two want anything?" Dean asked, glancing between us.

"I'm good," Sam told him without looking up from where he was lying on the bed.

"Me too," I added, sending Dean a small smile as he walked out the door. A moment of silence passed before I spoke, "What did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes," Sam answered sarcastically.

"Jess again?" I took a pretty safe guess. He just nodded. "Are you gonna tell me what happened?" He turned his head to look at me in surprise and carefully hidden worry.

"Well, my girlfriend," He began, getting more and more heated with each passing word and raising himself from the bed. "Burned to death pinned to the friggin' ceiling of our house! And I didn't do a damn thing about it! Twenty years of hunting, and I couldn't even stop my girlfriend from getting murdered by the same demon who killed my mom! A girlfriend who I was thinking of marrying!" His voice cut short abruptly, and my gaze snapped to his in shock.

"Oh, Sammy," My voice trailed off as I tried to think of things to say. Sammy glared ferociously at me through watery eyes and reached down, rummaging through his bag roughly for a moment before coming up with a small box and tossing it to me. I caught the box and was almost afraid to look inside, knowing what I'd find. The ring was elegant and simple with a small diamond in the center, "It's beautiful," I snapped it shut, gazing at him and feeling my throat closing. "Why do you feel so guilty, Sam?" I asked the question softly, not tearing my gaze from his form.

"I had… dreams," He muttered. "About her death. Days before… I had nightmares about it," He looked up at me from where his head was in his hands. "How is that possible?" His eyes were so desperate for comfort that I couldn't help but walk over and sit next to him on the bed.

"I'm going to figure it out, okay?" I promised him, meaning every word. "Dean and I are going to figure it out, and then you are getting out of this life. And you're going to fall in love again, and give this ring to someone else, who you love just as much as Jessica," I pressed the black velvet box into his hand and closed his fingers around it, giving him a determined smile.

"It doesn't weird you out?" I just frowned at him, hesitating. "Mel, I might be getting psychic visions. That doesn't weird you out?"

"I've seen a lot of weird stuff, Sam," A smile twitched at my mouth. I could tell him. Here and now. I could tell him about my hearing and what I can do. My _feelings_. Instead, I just said, "It's kinda in the job description," He just shook his head and let out a small, shaky laugh.

"And Mel?" Sam stopped me as I stood, and I half turned to look at him. "Don't tell Dean. And… after all this is over, and I get out. Take care of him," I just offered him a smile, glancing at the door.

"I always do," I grinned at him, and Dean chose that very moment to come through the door. Sam quickly hid the box in his jacket, and I sat on the chair, looking up at Dean.

"So, you two find anything?" Sammy asked, trying to avoid the subject of our discussion. Dean sat across from me and took out his cheeseburger that had been wrapped in a white bag and began eating.

"You mean besides a whole new level of frustration? No," Dean filled him in on what he'd missed.

"We've looked through everything," I added. "A few woman over the decades. Laura Monteith and Catherine Smith, suicide in front of a mirror,"

"And," I knew what he was about to say, but hadn't bothered to mention it. "A giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but, uh… no Mary," Sam flopped down on the bed with a tired sigh.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet," Sam suggested optimistically.

"We've also been searching for strange deaths, in the area," Dean continued, glancing at the computer screen and then to me. "You know, eye ball bleeding and that sort of thing. There's nothing,"

"Which means whatever is happening here, it probably isn't Bloody Mary," I had barely finished speaking when my phone rang. Unknown caller. I frowned, that's strange. Flipping it open, I pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Nel? Or Mel? Or whoever! Is this you? Something's happened!" I sat up straight.

"Where are you? Tell us where to meet you," I told her, and she gave me instructions before hanging up. It took us five minutes to get to the park table where she was sobbing.

"She's dead, and they found her on the bathroom floor," She sobbed out, "And her - her eyes… they were gone,"

"I'm sorry," Sammy murmured to her.

"And she said it," That caught my interest. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that," She sounded more as if she was trying to convince herself than us. "I'm insane right?"

"No, you're not insane," Dean reassured her.

"God, that makes me feel so much worse," She muttered, shaking her head.

"Look, we think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained," Sam began.

"And we're going to stop it," Dean continued, looking at her steadily.

"But we need your help," I told her, knowing she needed to understand what was at stake here.

"What do you need me to do?" She finally asked after a long minute of silence. Dean outlined the plan to her, which was really very simple. She'd go in to Jill's house and open the window for Sam, Dean, and I to get in without setting off the alarms.

Once inside, Sammy quickly set the duffel on the nearest table, readying the equipment while I studied the house, trying to get some sort of feeling from it. Nothing.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asked the girl.

"I just said I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things," She replied, looking guilty and apprehensive. "I hate lying to her,"

"Trust us. This is for the greater good," I abandoned my attempt at getting some sort of feeling and joined Sam with getting the equipment in order. A moment later, Dean came up on my other side.

"What are you guys looking for?" That seemed to be the third most popularly asked question when Sam, Dean, or I tell someone what's really going on. It's behind 'who are you?' and, my personal favorite, 'what the hell is _that_?'.

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it," Dean told her as I took out the EMF and handed it to him, opting to keep the video camera to myself.

"Night vision," I explained to the three, holding up the video camera. I pointed the camera up at Dean's face, grinning and pressing the button that turned the screen a greenish color.

"Do I look like Paris Hilton?" Dean asked, giving me a smirk, which made me smile and shake my head. I headed over with Sam to the closet mirror and ran my camera along the surface.

"So, I don't get it. I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" Sam reviewed the case aloud.

"Beats me," Dean answered unhelpfully as I finished with the mirror, and Sam shut it. "I wanna know why Jill said it in the first place," Dean continued, looking to Charlie for answers.

"It was just a joke," She told him, shrugging uncomfortably.

"Eventually, someone's gonna say it again," I stated, glancing back at them as Sam and I headed to the bathroom mirrors.

"She's right," Dean's eyes flicked to me before settling on Charlie again. "It's just a matter of time," I sucked in a breath through my teeth as I was suddenly hit by an nauseating flood of emotion.

"Are you okay?" Sam's concerned voice made me straighten forcibly. Trying my best to appear unconcerned, I nodded.

"Yeah, fine," Guilt. Another, smaller wave of the emotion washed over me, and my mind was thrown into a turmoil of past hunts. People I couldn't save. People, good people, that died because I wasn't fast enough.

"Mel?" I blinked away the thoughts and focused on the task at hand, brushing past Sam to scan the mirror through the lens of the camera. Suddenly, my attention was caught by the shining silver that stood out at the bottom of the mirror. I focused the camera and zoomed in on the stain. Blood.

"Hey!" I called to Dean and Charlie, who were still in the bedroom. "I think I found something!" And then I spoke quieter to Sam, "Get the black light from the trunk," Sam hurried out the door, and Dean came to stand beside me just as I shut off the camera. "Help me with this," Dean ended up carrying the mirror to the bed and set it face down on the covers. Sam came back, tossing me the backlight, and I shined it over the back of the mirror. Nothing.

"Try ripping off the paper," Sam grabbed the back of the mirror and ripped off the paper, and I once again shined the light over the wood. This time, a glowing, blue handprint shown with words spelled out under it sloppily as if someone had painted it with their fingers. "Gary Bryman?" Charlie read aloud the name.

"Do you know who that is?" Sam asked her, and she quickly shook her head.

"No," She answered.

-SPN-

"So," Sam came around to stand in front of the bench where I sat in the middle of Dean and Charlie. "Gary Bryman was an eight year old boy. Two years ago, he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black toyota camry, but nobody got the plates or saw the driver,"

"Oh, my god," Charlie murmured, sounding horrified, and I had a feeling I knew why she was so horrified about.

"What?" Sammy asked her.

"That was Jill's car, wasn't it?" I guessed softly and sympathetically. She looked at me, nodding in confirmation. I turned to look at Dean, meeting his eyes.

"We need to get back to Donna's house," It took us thirty minutes to drive to Donna's house, me riding in the back with Charlie. Thankfully, the window was open, so we climbed through quietly while Charlie distracted Donna downstairs and made our way to the upstairs bathroom. It was risky, though. We could hear the two girls downstairs the entire time we worked. Dean and Sam took down the mirror, setting it on the floor while I shined the black light over the back of it.

"Linda Shoemaker," A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I read the name aloud. "His wife?" I offered, glancing at the two boys. We crept back downstairs and out the window before she could notice we had been there. We went around to the front of the house and politely knocked on the door. Donna answered with Charlie standing behind her, and they led us inside.

"Did you know a Linda Shoemaker? Was she your mom?" I asked her, getting right to it. She frowned in confusion, glancing between the three of us untrustingly before looking questioningly at Charlie.

"Why are you asking me this?" She demanded.

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important," Sam apologized to her.

"Yeah, Linda's my mom, okay? And she overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident and that's it," Dean and I exchanged disbelieving looks. "I think you should leave,"

"Listen, Donna, we-" Dean started, but was cut off.

"Get out of my house!" She shrieked at us, storming past Dean and up the stairs.

"Oh, my god," Charlie began as soon as she was out of earshot. "Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?"

"Maybe," Sam told her, which was as good as a definitely in our book.

"I think I should stick around," Charlie sounded determined.

"All right, well, just whatever you do don't…" Dean trailed off, but we all knew what came next.

"Believe me, I won't say it," Charlie assured us a bit too readily. I pursed my lips, studying her thoughtfully and wondering what secret she was hiding.

Five hours later, we were still doing research in the hotel room even though it was well into the night. So far, we'd come up with jack, and I was starting to loose all hope that we would ever solve this thing. There was obviously something about feeling guilty about the murder that they'd committed. That was why this 'Mary' kept killing people.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" I glanced up in surprise, having been zoned out for the past couple of minutes.

"The NCIC, the FBI database, at this point, any Mary in the country who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me," Dean told him, and I put down the book I'd been flipping through, well, more like staring at.

"But if she's haunting the town, she should've died in the town," Sam reasoned.

"Not necessarily," I sat next to Dean, glancing at his screen to see if there were any hits before turning to focus my gaze on Sam, who was leaning on the chair across from me. "She could be haunting an object that was sold to someone in this town. Or maybe a person," I suggested, making Dean nod.

"Yeah, and there's nothing local. I've checked," Dean backed me up as I glanced back down at the screen. "Plus, I don't see you having a better idea," Sam really couldn't argue with that one.

"The way Mary's choosing her victims. It seems like there's a pattern," Sam pointed out.

"I know, I was thinking the same thing," Dean agreed.

"With Mr. Shoemaker, and Jill's hit and run," Sam started.

"Both of them had secrets that involved people dying," I finished for him.

"Right. I mean, there's a lot of local folklore about mirrors that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them,"

"Right. Right. Yeah, so maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a real nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it and punishes you for it," Dean pieced together the puzzle.

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not," Sam added.

"Check this out," I moved the mouse on Dean's computer and clicked on the nearest murder that seemed promising. I clicked print, and the printer started up loudly, printing black and white pictures. Sam got the pictures and gave one to me before holding two up next to each other to see.

"Looks like the same handprint," He analyzed.

"Her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana," Dean's eyes flicked between me and Sammy, and I turned to Sammy, grinning slightly.

"Shotgun," I grabbed my jacket as I headed out to the Impala.

The drive out took two hours, and, thankfully, we stopped for food. First, we went to the sheriff's department, flashing our fake badges and wide smiles. They directed us to an old house just outside of town, which belonged to the retired detective that had worked Mary's case.

"I was on the job for thirty-five years," The old detective began after Dean brought up the case. "Detective for most of it. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder… that one still gets me," I looked at the pictures he had hung up on the wall. Two kids. A wife. I glanced at him briefly. Divorced by the tan line on his finger.

"What exactly happened?" Dean questioned him.

"You three said you were reporters?" The ex-detective asked skeptically.

"We know Mary was nineteen," Sam told him, making the lie more convincing. "Lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th, someone broke into her apartment and murdered her. Cut out her eyes with a knife,"

"That's right," The man agreed quietly, almost sorrowfully.

"See, sir," I began, tearing my eyes away from the pictures to fix my gaze on him. "When we ask you what happened. We really mean what do you think happened," The man went into a file cabinet and pulled out a thick file.

"Technically, I'm not supposed to have a copy of this," He told us as he opened the file on one of his tables and flipped through to a picture. "Now, see that there, 'T-R-E'? I think Mary was trying to spell the name of her killer," I looked over Dean's shoulder at the black and white photo of a girl lying on the floor, T-R-E finger painted in blood on her side.

"You know who it was?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Not for sure," The ex detective admitted. "But there was a local man, surgeon. Trevor Sampson," He put a grainy picture on top of the bloodier one. "And I think he cut her up good,"

"But why would he do that?" I asked, needing to make sure it wasn't just a personal vendetta the man had against Trevor Sampson.

"Her diary mentioned a man she was seeing. She called him by his initial, 'T'. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell T's wife about the affair,"

"Yeah, but how do you know it was this guy Sampson that killed her?" Dean asked dubiously.

"It's hard to say," The man shook his head. "But the way her eyes were cut out, it was almost professional,"

"But you could never prove it?" Dean checked.

"No," The man conceded. "No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous,"

"Is he still alive?" I asked. That would be a huge help.

"Nope," The detective told us rather cheerfully, "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret, but she never could,"

"Where was she buried?" Sam's question held a secret weight with it.

"She wasn't," Damn it. Our job just got a lot harder. "She was cremated," I glanced at Dean to see him rolling his eyes in an annoyance when an idea struck me.

"What about that mirror?" I asked, and Dean caught on quickly.

"Yeah, it's not in some evidence lockup somewhere, is it?" Dean questioned, and the man frowned for a minute before passing off the inquiry.

"No. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago," He told us.

"Do you have the names of her family by any chance?" He frowned again but printed us off a copy of the list and numbers. Sam started dialing the number to Mr. John Worthington almost before we'd reached the car. The conversation only took a couple of minutes before he hung up with an annoyed look, shaking his head.

"So?" Dean prompted when Sam didn't speak for a moment.

"So, that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques, a store in Toledo," Sam filled us in.

"So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?" He checked.

"Her spirits tied to the mirror," I nodded as I spoke. That made sense.

"Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits," Dean questioned.

"Yeah, there is," Sam immediately answered, making me grin slightly, "When someone would die in a house, people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped,"

"Mary died in front of a mirror and her spirit got trapped in it somehow?" I guessed, glancing at Sam.

"Yeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?" Sam wondered.

"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it," Dean stated determinedly, but something told me that that might not be the best idea.

"It might not be that easy," I began, only to be cut off by my phone ringing. I checked the number. Charlie. I flipped open the phone and pressed it to my ear. "Charlie?"

"Mel? I need help. I saw it. I see it. Donna-she said it. I see it! It's going to kill me!" A panicked voice spoke rapidly on the other end.

"Charlie, calm down, it's not going to kill you. Tell me where you are," I spoke urgently, repeating the address she gave me to Dean, who stepped on the gas. "I need you to stay calm, stay away from any mirrors in your house. Whatever you do, don't look at them, Charlie. Can you do that?"

"I think so," She was crying slightly, and I felt sympathy bubble in my stomach.

"Okay, good. We're on our way," I shut the phone, and tapped Dean's shoulder from the backseat. "Hurry up. She's in trouble." We picked her up from her house and took her to the motel, making sure to cover all the mirrors or reflective surfaces. Sam sat on the bed next to Charlie as Dean and I finished the last mirror. I glanced back at Charlie and frowned in concern.

"She's going to be okay," I looked up at Dean. "We're going to kill this thing,"

"Yeah," Against my will, I was comforted by Dean's confident words. I leaned against him briefly, closing my eyes, and felt his arms wrap around my waist securely. "I hope so,"

"I'm gonna die, aren't I?" I opened my eyes, and Dean's arms dropped as we heard Charlie's desolate words.

"No," Sam sounded convinced as he reassured her. "Not anytime soon,"

"All right, Charlie," I sat on the bed as Dean spoke to her. "We need to know what happened,"

"We were in the bathroom," She told us, rocking back and forth, "Donna said it,"

"We both know that's not what he meant," I spoke gently, and she looked at me with terrified eyes. "What happened?" She hesitated looking down at her lap. "We need to know, Charlie,"

"I had this boyfriend," She finally began quietly. "I loved him. But he kind of scared me, too, you know," I couldn't help sneaking a look at Dean out of the corner of my eye. "And, one night at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset and he said he needed me and he loved me," My eyes remained firmly trained on Charlie even though I could feel Sam's gaze on my face. This story was sounding all too familiar. "And he said, 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.' And do you know what I said? I said, 'go ahead', and I left. How could I say that?" She looked up at me desperately as if I held the answer she was looking for. "How could I leave him like that? I just… I didn't believe him, you know? I should have,"

"We're going to save you. Promise," I swore, standing and heading out the door with renewed determination. I slid into the passenger's seat as Dean got into the driver's seat and Sam was in the back.

"You know, a boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault," Dean broke the silence that had fallen.

"You know as well as we do that spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died. That's good enough for Mary,"

"I guess," Dean sounded unconvinced.

"You know, I've been thinking," Sam changed the subject, "It might not be enough to just smash that mirror,"

"Why? What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right?" Sam reasoned. "I mean, she moves around from mirror to mirror. So who's to say that she's not gonna just keep hiding in them forever?"

"So, what're you thinking?" I asked, glancing at the rearview mirror.

"Maybe, we should try to pin her down. You know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it," Sam explained

"Well how do you know that's gonna work?" Dean's voice held skepticism.

"I don't. I'm not sure," Sam admitted.

"Well, who's gonna summon her?" Dean pointed out, glancing at both of us.

"I will," I volunteered quickly before Sammy could.

"What?" Dean snapped, glancing at me. "No, no way in hell,"

"Dean-" My heated protest was cut short by Sam.

"No, I will," He told us somberly. "She'll come after me,"

"All right, you know what, that's it," Dean pulled to the side of the road, and I felt a family discussion coming on. The only problem was it was raining outside, so I couldn't get out. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret? That you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and - and calling her name out in the middle of the night, it's gonna kill you. Now, listen to me. It wasn't your fault," Sam just set his jaw and stared out the back window.

"He's right, Sam," I broke in, hating the look of self-loathing that was written on Sam's face almost as much as I hated it when it crossed Dean's features. "If you need to blame something, then blame that demon," Even that didn't get a reaction out of him.

"Exactly," Dean snapped, "Or, hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place," That finally did it, and Sam turned to fix his soft gaze on us.

"I don't blame either of you," He told us earnestly.

"Well, you shouldn't blame yourself either," Dean stated firmly. "Cause there's nothing you could've done,"

"I could've warned her," Sam glanced at me, meeting my eyes briefly, and I knew he meant his dreams.

"About _what_?" Dean snapped, not understanding. I looked down at my hands for a moment and then back at Sam. "You didn't know it was gonna happen. And, besides, all of this isn't a secret. I mean, Mel and I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway,"

"No, you don't," Sam said darkly, and Dean looked startled.

"I don't what?" Dean asked, and I bit my lip, looking back down at my hands, feeling Dean's gaze on the side of my head.

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything," Sam elaborated, his voice still holding that chilling darkness.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, surprise stripping his voice of it's usual hardness.

"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam returned to looking out the window, and I studied my hands intently.

"Do you know about this?" I slowly forced my gaze up to meet Dean's glaring eyes, but I held firm. "What the hell's he talking about?"

"It's his choice to tell you, Dean," I felt guilt gnawing at my stomach as I spoke the words, but I pushed it down. "It doesn't matter anyways. I'll go,"

"No," Dean bit out the word harshly. "I don't like it. It's not gonna happen. Forget it,"

"Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it," Sam told him. "And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now, we're doing this. And it's not going to be Mel. You two have got to let me do this," Dean debated for a few moments with a seriously pissed look on his face before starting the car again. It was an hour of tense silence until we reached the warehouse. I picked the lock while the boys kept watch, and it only took a couple seconds before the door swung open with a protesting creak. The warehouse was full of mirrors; everywhere I shone my flashlight another just seemed to pop up out of the darkness.

"Well, that's just great," Dean commented sarcastically before taking out the photo of the dead Mary. Sammy shined the flashlight on the picture, illuminating the mirror. "All right, let's get looking," The three of us split up, and I took the hallway to our left that was lined with mirrors, none which matched the picture. "Maybe they've already sold it," Dean called after a moment, and I met up with him as our hallways joined.

"I don't think so," Something in the way Sam said those words made me walk a bit faster. We came to stand by Sam, staring at the big mirror that was leaned against the wall in front of him. I shone my light on the picture in Dean's hands before looking back at the mirror, but I already knew it was the right one.

"That's it," Dean confirmed with a heavy sigh before turning to Sammy. "You sure about this?" Dean was hoping Sam had changed his mind. He hadn't. Dean handed him the bat, and he faced the mirror.

"Bloody Mary," He began as Dean and I watched him warily. "Bloody Mary," He said again. Goosebumps shot up my arms, and I instinctively shifted closer to Dean. "Bloody Mary," There was nothing from the mirror, but a blinding light came from a little ways off in one of the hallways.

"I'll go check that out, you two stay here. Be careful," Dean instructed us, taking charge. I bit my lip to hold in the argument that was on the tip of my tongue. "Smash anything that moves," I glanced back the way Dean had gone before looking back at the mirror and readjusting my grip on the steel pipe I'd brought. I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting back to where he had vanished.

"Just go," My eyes snapped to Sam in surprise. "I'll be fine. I know you want to go. Make sure he's okay," I bit my lip for a moment, unsure, before turning towards the blinding light and walking towards it.

"Hey," I whispered when I came up beside him, causing Dean to jump.

"I thought I told you to stay with Sam," He hissed at me, and I bit back a grin.

"You did," I met his eyes levelly, "I didn't listen," He let out a half annoyed half amused huff and turned back to the lights outside the window. I heard the unmistakable crunching of tires over gravel.

"Crap," Dean muttered, glancing at the light before turning back to me. "Go back and help Sam. I'll deal with these guys. I have a plan," I let my hearing drift to pick up the slamming of two car doors.

"Be careful," I told him earnestly, and, in answer, he flashed me a mischievous grin before sauntering out the door. I sighed but quickly made my way back to Sammy. The clanging of metal on the ground was all I needed to start running towards Sammy, who was gasping and panting.

"You never told her the truth. Who you really were," Sam's reflection was talking as Sam sunk to the ground in pain. "But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Sam!" I yelled, kneeling by his side, and snatching up the bat to smash the damn thing.

"Those nightmares you've been having, of Jessica dying, screaming, burning." A tingling shot up my spine and then a sharp pain throbbed in my cheek like my heart was beating in it. I felt a hot trail of thick water leave a trail down my face. Except when I touched it, it was crimson. "You had them for days before she died, didn't you?" I looked back into the mirror, my eyes wide, to see my reflection was looking at me with a malevolent expression twisted onto my features.

"You did it," My reflection told me, and I felt a jolt of pain go through my heart, making me cry out against my will. "It was your fault," I coughed and gagged, trying to breathe evenly, and tightened my grip on the bat against the pain. "She was your fault,"

"Shut up!" I snarled at the damn thing, hurling the bat into it and shattering it into a million pieces. My legs turned to jell-o, and I sunk to the floor next to Sammy, wiping the blood off my face.

"Mel! Sam!" Dean knelt next to me now, helping me with Sammy. He grabbed Sam's face in his hands, forcing it up for us to see the blood tears that he had been crying. "Sammy!"

"It's Sam," Sammy croaked out, and I gave a half laugh of relief.

"Mel, your face," Dean moved to me, but I brushed him off with a hand, shaking my head.

"I'm fine. We need to get out of here." He nodded reluctantly in agreement, and I smiled shakily in relief, getting to my feet and helping Dean pull Sam up.

"Come on, come on," Dean grunted as he put one of Sam's arms over his shoulders and I took the other arm, supporting him. There was a sudden gust of wind from behind us, and a chilling voice in the air. We turned slowly, letting go of Sammy, who could now stand by himself. There, having crawled out of the mirror where she'd been trapped, was Mary Worthington, or what was left of her. I felt my heart constrict, and gave a groan of pain before falling to my knees. I blinked rapidly, my vision of her spirit coming towards us blurred.

"Dean," I got out before my throat tightened, and my pulse began to pound in the back of my head. There was a loud grunt of effort from Dean, and then the pain disappeared and I was left panting and shaking in relief.

"You killed them. All those people. You killed them," Mary's reflection was glaring at her as she wheezed and choked. Her face began melting and the rest of her body followed soon after until she shattered like a mirror and all that was left was shards. Dean threw the mirror he'd used to trick her into the glass shards, and it shattered as well. I sat up, fighting to regain my breath, and offered a weakly reassuring smile at the two boys.

"Hey, guys?" Dean studied us for a moment. "That's got to be like, what, 600 years of bad luck?" I let out a small laugh, shaking my head but feeling lighter somehow. We managed to pick ourselves off the ground and get on the road without being chased down by the police, which was a pretty big accomplishment. We picked Charlie up and threw our bags into the back of the Impala, checking out of the motel on our way out.

"So this is really over?" Charlie asked in numb shock from beside Sam in the back as we pulled up in front of her house.

"Yeah, it's over," Dean told her reassuringly.

"Thank you," Charlie whispered, smiling a bit.

"Charlie," Sam stopped her from leaving, and she turned. "Your boyfriend's death, you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen," I smiled at Sam's speech, hoping that he was finally on his way to forgiving himself for Jessica's death.

"That's good advice," Dean grinned slightly at Sam in the rearview before revving the engine. "Hey," Dean started after a few minutes of driving, "Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret was,"

"Look, you're my brother, and I'd die for you, but there's some things I need to keep to myself," Dean glanced at me and then at the rearview.

"But Mel get's to know?" Dean practically whined, and Sam just shrugged, grinning slightly. "I don't suppose," Dean started, his eyes fixing on me, and I shook my head.

"Sorry, Dean, Sam's secret," I turned my head to look out the window so the two boys couldn't see the frown of worry and fear that overtook my face. Sam and me - our mothers died the same way and now we're both getting these… abilities. That couldn't be a coincidence? Could it?


	6. Skin

****Hey, so this one didn't take that long to write, but I hope you like it! Thank you to all the people that read this story; you guys are amazing! Please review! I love reading them, and they inspire me to write more. Thank you so much!****

_Skin_

"What exactly do you tell them, you know, about where you been, what you been doing?" Dean's voice filtered into my consciousness as I slowly woke. My back was leaning against the backdoor of the Impala, and my legs were stretched across the three seats. I raised my head from where it rested on the top of the seat and tried not to wince a slight ache shot through it.

"I tell them I'm on a road trip with my big brother and his girlfriend," Was Sam's defensive response. "I tell them I needed some time off after Jess," I reached into my bag and took out a piece of gum, popping it into my mouth as the brother's bickered.

"Well, so you lie to them," Dean simplified, a smug smile on his face. I just smiled and shook my head fondly at the two of them, taking out a brush and starting on my hair. I swear, I basically live in this car.

"No," Sam was denying. "I just don't tell them everything," I shoved the brush back in the bag before joining the conversation.

"Yeah, that would be called lying, Sam," He turned in his seat to shoot a pointed look at me.

"Hey, man, we get it. Telling them the truth is far worse," Dean sympathized, looking away from his brother.

"So what am I supposed to do just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam questioned bitterly. I looked down at the flip phone that was just visible in my bag. I still kept in touch with some people. Granted, most of them were hunters. Bobby, Dustin, Rush, Max, Ellen. And Jezebel. Jez wasn't a hunter. Of course, I could only see her once a year, and had a number to a cell that was just used for my calls. "You two are serious?" Sam asked incredulously, taking our silence and Dean's shrug as a definite yes.

"Look, it sucks, but, in a job like this, you can't get close to people. Period," Dean was just trying to protect him, and he was right. Sam couldn't afford to keep his friends at Stanford. It was too risky to him and them.

"You're both kind of antisocial. You know that?" Sam told us, and I reached over to punch him in the shoulder. "Ow!" He rubbed his arm but didn't look regretful about the statement. "My god," He muttered as he glanced back down at his blackberry.

"What?" Dean asked, leaning down to look through the window. I took my feet off the seat and scooted over to read the email over Sam's shoulder.

"This e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine," Sam explained, scrolling through the email. "I went to school with her and her brother, Zach. She says Zach's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case,"

"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?" Dean voiced my thoughts.

"No, man, I know Zach. He's no killer," Sam defended his college friend.

"Yeah?" I cut in, "Well, if you know Zach as well as he knows you…" I let that sentence hang.

"They're in St Louis. We're going," I sighed and pushed myself back to the door, throwing my legs over the seat again. St Louis was about five hours in the opposite direction from where we'd been heading.

"I'm sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem," Dean patronized him with a scoff. I just watched them, already knowing Sam would win the argument. He could be quite the stubborn kid when he wanted to be.

"It is our problem. They're my friends," Sam argued, and Dean shot me an exasperated, pleading look.

"Sam, St Louis is 400 miles behind us at least. It'll take us hours to get there, and we aren't even sure there's a case," I tried to reason logically with Sam, who just looked at me stubbornly and set his jaw. I met Dean's eyes and saw him give in with one last annoyed look. He returned the pump and got into the driver's seat, starting the car. I closed my eyes; it was going to be a long drive to St Louis.

"We should stop at the next motel," Dean finally announced when we were a couple minutes from Rebecca's house.

"No, we should go see her first," Sam insisted, and I glanced at him in disbelief.

"Sam, it's one in the morning. I don't think your friends going to like us if we wake her up," I pointed out, and Sam's unhappy huff told me I had won the argument. We pulled into a particularly run down motel, and Dean parked. I shoved two guns into my duffel before I swung it over my shoulder and headed after Sam and Dean towards the motel.

"Two rooms please," Dean asked the manager, a burly man with a thick neck and thick, ropey hands.

"Queen or twins?" The man questioned as I came to stand next to Dean.

"Queens," Dean gave him a slightly mocking smile as the man surveyed me.

"Yeah, I'll bet," I felt Dean's arm slip around my waist, and he gave the man a smile that held a hidden warning. He handed Sammy his room key first and then Dean ours. I took the key and unlocked the door, dumping my bag by the bed as soon as I got in. I turned, and Dean's lips found mine hungrily. Faintly, I heard the door slam shut; Dean must have kicked it with his foot. I pushed Dean's jacket off his shoulders, and he did the rest while I wrapped my arms around his neck. Our lips parted momentarily as the shirt passed over his head and was thrown to the side. Mine followed a second later. Dean's lips moved to my neck, and I let out a moan of pleasure. My fingers nimbly undid his belt.

-SPN-

The door opened to reveal a young woman with blonde hair and green eyes that were filled with sorrow. Her eyes brightened as they landed on Sam, not bothering to look at Dean or me.

"Oh, my god, Sam!" She gave a half laugh and smiled widely at him, still ignoring Dean and I.

"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam smiled back, clearly as happy to see her as she was to see him.

"You know what you can do with that 'Little Becky' crap," Rebecca told him, giving him a mock glare but smiling through it. They both laughed and hugged.

"I got your email," Sam told her, getting more to the point of our visit.

"I didn't think you would come here," Rebecca confessed, finally looking past Sam to Dean and me.

"I'm Mel," I held out my hand to her, smiling, "This my boyfriend, Dean, Sammy's older brother," I introduced, glancing at Sammy, who gave me a stern look when I used the nickname.

"Hi," She shook our hands, smiling unsurely.

"We're here to help," Sam spoke sincerely. "Anything we can do,"

"Come in," She let us into the relatively big house, and we followed her to the kitchen.

"Nice place," Dean commented, and I couldn't help but agree.

"It's my parents," Rebecca explained. "I was just crashing here for the long weekend. When everything happened I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zach's free,"

"Where are your folks?" Sam inquired, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial," She responded, going to the fridge. "Do you guys want a beer or something?" She offered.

"Hey," Dean pointed at her and grinned like a boy on christmas morning.

"No, thanks," Sam answered for the three of us, giving Dean a pointed look. "So… tell us what happened," Sam prompted, going back to why we were here.

"Well, um, Zach had came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. She was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing, and so he called 911," Her voice started breaking, and she paused for a moment before going on, "And the police, they showed up, and they arrested him. But the thing is, the only way that Zach could have killed Emily was if he was in two places at the same time. The police, they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street, and it shows Zach coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear he was here with me having a few beers until at least after midnight,"

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene - Zach's house?" Sam offered.

"We could?" Dean echoed in surprise, glancing at Sam. I was starting to feel like maybe this was our kind of thing after all. Two places at once? It did have a certain supernatural ring to it.

"Why? What good could you do?" Becky asked dejectedly.

"Well, me, not much, but Dean and Mel are cops," I glared at Sam, but quickly smiled when Becky turned to me and Dean.

"Detectives really," I told her with another smile. I was going to kill Sam.

"Really? Where?" Becky questioned, tears still brimming in her eyes.

"Bisbee, Arizona," Dean answered before I could speak. "But we're off duty now,"

"Don't they have a rule against dating other detectives?" Becky asked, looking curious. She watches too much TV.

"He works narcotics," I covered as Dean opened and closed his mouth trying to find something to say, "I'm homicide, but we'd be happy to take a look at the crime scene for you. Maybe find something the cops missed?"

"Oh," She turned back to Sam and then glanced uncertainly at us. "I don't know. You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just - I don't know,"

"Beck, look. I know Zach didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent," Sam spoke to her earnestly. She looked back and forth between the three of us for a long moment before sighing.

"Okay," She conceded. "I'm gonna go get the keys," As soon as she was out of earshot Dean let out a long whistle and turned to face Sammy.

"Oh, yeah, you're a real straight shooter with your friends," Sarcasm lined Dean's words.

"Look, Zach and Becky need our help," Sam reasoned.

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean shrugged, trying to make Sam see that this wasn't worth our time.

"I think it may be," I disagreed and both boys turned to look at me, "I mean, two places at once? It sounds like our kind of thing,"

"Exactly," Sam agreed with me, turning back to his brother, "Come on,"

"We've looked into less," I added, meeting his eyes, and trying to convey how confident I was that this was a case. Dean just raised both eyebrows and shrugged in defeat. Becky came back, and we took the Impala to Zach's house with Sam and Becky riding in the back. Dean parked on the side of the road, and we all got out.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Becky asked uncertainly.

"We are officers of the law," Dean told her, glancing at me with a wink. I grinned as I followed him to the house, ignoring the strange looks from the occasional passerby as Becky unlocked the door of a crime scene. The door swung open, revealing a bloody mess inside. Dean, Sam, and I went in first, but Sam hung back to talk to Becky.

"Boyfriend, huh?" It took me a moment to register what Dean was talking about. When we'd gotten to Becky's, I'd introduced him as my boyfriend. We had never really talked about what we were. I mean, of course, I hadn't been with anybody since our relationship started, but, for the first time, I doubted if it was a relationship at all.

"Dean," I looked up into his all too serious eyes. "I'm not going to be just another girl in your string of one night stands, so, if you don't want to-"

"Who said I don't want to?" He interrupted me, and I glanced away briefly before opening my mouth to reply.

"Guys?" Sam cut in firmly. My gaze shifted to his for a moment before I walked over to stand by him.

"Well… there was no sign of a break-in," Becky was saying. "They say that Emily let her attacker in, and the lawyers are already talking about a plea bargain," My eyes flitted around the room, taking in the blood spatters that covered most of the once white room. "Oh, god,"

"Look, Beck…" Sam trailed off as Becky sniffled. "If Zach didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"

"Um, there was something," Becky suddenly remembered. "About a week before, somebody broke in here, and they stole some clothes - Zach's clothes. And the police - they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. I mean, sometimes people get robbed," I was drawn to the window as I heard the angry barking of the neighbors dog in the yard over.

"You know," I jumped slightly as Becky's voice behind me caught me by surprise. "That used to be the sweetest dog,"

"What happened?" I questioned, a bad feeling twisting my stomach.

"He just changed," She told me.

"Do you remember when he changed?" Dean asked as he joined us on my left.

"I guess around the time of the murder," She answered, and I walked around her, heading towards Sam, who was staring at a photo that was taped to the fridge. The photo was of Zach, Becky, and him. They looked so full of happiness it made my heart ache.

"Around the time of Zach's supposed kill, the neighbors dog starts going mad," I informed Sammy, who barely spared me a glance, he was so focused on the picture. "Sam," I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to snap him out of it.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Dean came up behind me as Sam spoke, and I dropped my hand from Sam's shoulder.

"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something," Dean grinned at the two of us, and I smiled back, knowing what his words meant.

"So you think maybe this is our kind of problem?" Sam voiced it, causing me to smile wider. "No. Probably not," Dean denied immediately, "But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure," He quickly added.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Yeah," Dean echoed, turning to face Becky, who was walking towards us. "So the tape - the, uh, security footage? Think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it? See, we just don't have that kind of jurisdiction,"

"I've already got it," Becky admitted, looking guiltily at Sam, "I didn't want to say something in front of two cops. I, um, I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself,"

"All right, then," We headed back to Becky's house to review the footage. I sat in the front again, but the almost palpable tension between Dean and I made me wish I'd sat in the back. Becky led us back into her house and put on the security footage while we all sat around to watch.

"Here he comes," She told us, and I payed closer attention to the figure getting out of the car. I was sitting on one of the armchairs in front of the TV while Becky sat on the floor by my feet. Dean sat on the arm of my chair while Sam stood a short distance away from us to my left.

"22:04, that's just after 10," Dean analyzed, "You said time of death was about 10:30," Becky nodded in response.

"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with," She informed us.

"Hey, Beck, can we take those beers now?" Sam asked her, and she rose off the floor nodding.

"Yeah, sure," She walked to the doorway.

"Hey, uh, maybe some sandwiches too," I shot a glare at Sammy for his sexist comment, but Becky just laughed.

"What do you think this is, Hooters?" She asked sarcastically as I rose from the chair.

"I wish," Dean muttered, earning himself a light smack in the back of the head from me. He just gave me a sheepish smile, rubbing his head ruefully.

"So, what is it?" I turned my attention to Sam, going over to stand by him.

"Check this out," He clicked the rewind button on the remote before pausing it. He played it in slow motion for a few frames, and Zach's face flashed across the camera. His eyes were glowing.

"Maybe it's just a camera flare," Dean suggested, sounding as though he really didn't believe that.

"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul. Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zach's. Something that looks like him but isn't him,"

"Like a Doppleganger," Dean offered.

"Yeah, that would explain how he was in two places at once," I nodded as I spoke, glancing at Sammy.

We took the beers and some sandwiches and headed back to the motel to research and sleep. Mostly research as it turned out. I glanced at the clock to see it was one in the morning. My blurry eyes scanned the room to rest on Sam's sleeping form on the still made bed. They then flicked to Dean, who was nodding off on the couch but doing his best to stay awake. I set the old articles that I had been searching through down on the table and rose from the chair. Dean made a slight noise of protest as I slid the book from his hand and put it on the coffee table beside him.

"You need to sleep," I told him firmly. "You look exhausted,"

"You're not," He looked up at me with heavy eyes and tousled hair, making him look adorable.

"What?" I tried to ignore how my heart sped up when I looked at him and how it got harder to think when he was there.

"You're not just another girl in my string of one night stands," Understanding dawned on me, and I turned away, my eye catching the beer bottles on the table.

"Dean, we can talk about this later," _When your not half drunk and falling asleep_.

"No," He sounded a bit annoyed, "I want to be your boyfriend. I do," I took the half drunk beer from his hand and set that on the table next to the four empty bottles. Dean drank when he was trying to stay awake, or when he was trying to drown out worry or pain.

"Okay," Was all I said as I put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down onto the couch. I just watched him with concern in my gaze as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. I stood, gathering the bottles and tossing them before curling up in the chair by the window and resting my head against the wall.

"Mel!" My eyes shot open, and I was breathing heavily, staring wide eyed at Dean and gripping his wrists tightly. I looked around the room, not knowing where I was for a moment before remembering everything. We were helping Sam's friend. "Nightmare?" I frowned as I tried to remember, but it was blank. I just shook my head, my heart still pounding painfully hard in my chest as adrenaline coursed through my body.

"I'm okay," I told him, looking to my right only to see a concerned Sammy standing at his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked uncertainly, worry still lining his voice with a tinge of fear.

"Yeah," I assured them, standing. "I'm going to change and then we can go," I continued brusquely, not wanting to dwell on the nightmare I couldn't remember. I changed into blue jeans, a dark blue tank top, and a black jacket before brushing my teeth quickly, slipping on my boots and joining the boys at the car. The drive took about twenty minutes with the coffee stop, and Dean parked in back of the house. Sam, apparently, wanted to look for clues outside the house in case he escaped out the back. It was a good idea, but it could've definitely waited until ten, not five.

"All right," Dean spoke as we got out of the car. "So, what are we doing here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean asked, laying a bitter emphasis on 'five thirty in the morning'.

"I realized something," I came to stand beside Dean, warming my hands with the to-go coffee cup I held between them. "The videotape shows the killer going in but not coming out,"

"So, he came out the back door?" Dean inquired, taking a sip of coffee as Sam headed towards the house.

"Right, so there should be a trail to follow - a trail the police would never pursue," Sam told us logically. I took a gulp of my coffee, and felt immediately better.

"Because Zach would have stayed in the house," I filled in the missing pieces.

"I still don't know what we're doing here at 5:30 in the morning," I let out a small laugh at Dean's grumble, taking some more of my coffee. Suddenly, I grew aware of the tension between Dean and I.

"I should go help Sammy look-" I began, pushing off the car, when Dean caught my arm.

"Mels, about what I said last night," He trailed off awkwardly. I had learned a long, long time ago that Dean wasn't the best at expressing the way he felt. In fact, Winchesters in general weren't the best at expressing the way they felt.

"It's fine, Dean. Forget it," I quickly spoke to fill the silence, turning again with a heavy heart. Dean Winchester had one longterm girlfriend in his entire life and that had been me in high school. It was nine years later. Nine years of one night stands and two week girlfriends. I had been stupid to think that I could change him.

"I meant it, Mels," I froze, turning back to him in surprise. "Would you, Melody Scott, like to go on a date with me?" He grinned cockily at me, making me smile.

"I'd love to, Dean Winchester," His grin turned slightly relived, as if there was any way I'd say no. He leaned down to kiss me when Sammy's voice interrupted us.

"Guys, I found something!" Dean swore under his breath, and I laughed softly. We turned to Sammy, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face. "Blood," Sammy stated, nodding his head towards the post. "Somebody came this way,"

"Maybe the trail ends. I don't see anything over here," Dean informed him. Just then, a siren went by, wailing loudly, and, with it, came a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Let's follow it," I straightened, opening the passenger door and getting in while Sam ran across the street to get into the back. The drive was a short two minutes, and we parked across the street, walking over just as they were setting up the crime scene, yellow tape.

"What happened?" Dean asked the jogger, who was watching with her arms folded across her chest.

"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," The jogger explained.

"Really?" Sam asked thoughtfully with a hint of an 'I told you so' in his voice.

"I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy," The jogger shrugged and started an even pace again down the sidewalk.

"I'll go check the back with Sam. You talk to the cops, try to find out more," I took the lead, and went around to the back of the house with Sammy following. We found a trail of blood, but it died in the first couple of feet, leaving us to search the surrounding area hopefully.

"What was it about?" Sam asked as we searched for clues.

"What was what about?" I returned his question with a question after a moment.

"Your nightmare," I looked away.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully, and Sam scoffed. "It's the truth, Sammy. I swear. I can't remember," He studied me for a moment before turning glancing under the lids of each of the trash cans.

"You were pretty freaked out," He told me, doing a double take on the last trash can.

"Find anything?" I changed the subject, and he looked startled, his face going slightly red.

"Nope, nothing," He let the lid slam shut again. Oh. I couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping my lips.

"Hey," We turned to find Dean coming up to us. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?" Dean asked, and Sam and I nodded. "Definitely our kind of problem."

"What'd you find out?" Sam questioned him.

"I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene," Dean explained, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "He heard this guy Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."

"That means he was two places at once," I realized.

"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house. Police think he's a nut job," Dean finished, grinning.

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," Sam pondered allowed.

"Could be the same thing doing it too," Dean suggested.

"Shapeshifter," It wasn't a question, but the two boys nodded in agreement anyway.

"Right, something that can make itself look like anyone," Sammy's grin widened.

"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore - legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men," Dean added.

"Yeah, skinwalkers. Werewolves," I listed.

"We got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we got a shapeshifter problem in the neighborhood," Dean summed up.

"Let me ask you this," Sammy started, his brow furrowing in confusion. "In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"

"Not that I know of, why?" Dean responded, following Sam and I as we turned and walked towards where we'd found the trail.

"We picked up a trail here," Sam started, pointing to the wall. "Someone climbed out the window and headed off this way,"

"Just like Zach's house," Dean added.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And, just like Zach's house, the trail suddenly dies. Like it just disappeared,"

"Well, there's another way to go," Dean looked away, thinking for a moment before looking back at us. "Down," My eyes dropped to the road and zeroed in on the sewer grate by Sam's foot. Trying not to be too noticeable, Sam and Dean lifted the grate and all three of us descended the ladder into the dark, dank tunnel. Sam, who descended last, replaced the grate over the entrance as Dean and I explored the tunnel a bit.

"I bet this runs right by Zach's house too," Sam noted when he reached the bottom and turned to follow me and Dean. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around," My eyes adjusted to the dark and landed on a foul looking pile of pink goo.

"I think you're right," Dean knelt by the pile, flicking out his blade. "Look at this," I covered my mouth and nose with my hand, looking away from the oozing goo as Dean lifted it up with his knife.

"Is this from his victims?" Sam questioned while trying not to gag. All three of us had strong stomachs, but this tested our limits. Then a thought so unpleasant crossed my mind that I almost puked right there.

"Guys? I just had a sickening thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, what if it sheds?" I spoke, trying not to breathe through my nose. Dean flung the goo off of his blade quickly.

"That is sick," Sam agreed disgustedly. "Let's go back to the car. We're sitting ducks down here without weapons," We headed back up and to the car. Dean popped the trunk open, handing me a gun and getting one for himself.

"Well, one thing I learned from Dad is no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it," Dean told us.

"Silver bullet to the heart," I finished. Whatever is said about John, he sure knows how to teach a hunter.

"That's right," Dean grinned at me as I loaded the gun. Sam's phone rang, and he checked it before picking it up quickly.

"This is Sam," He answered.

_Where are you?_ I heard Becky's voice on the other line.

"It's Rebecca," I informed Dean, who glanced at me in surprise for a moment before looking over at Sam.

"We're near Zach's. We're just checking some things out," Sam replied easily.

_Well, look, Sam, just stop, because I really don't need your help anymore._

"She sounds pretty upset," I frowned, listening to what they were saying.

"Does she know we're not cops?" Dean questioned. I had missed Sam's response, so I closed my eyes and focused on Becky's.

_I told the lawyers that we went to the crime scene._

"She told the lawyers we went to the crime scene," I repeated in a low voice for Dean.

"Why would you do that?" Sam sounded annoyed.

_I told them that we were with a police officer, and they checked it out, and they told me that there is no detective Dean Winchester or anyone by the name of Mel._

"She know that we aren't cops," I muttered with a sigh of annoyance, turning to face Dean, not bothering to hear the rest of the conversation. Dean was looking at me with an unreadable expressing that made me uneasy. "What?"

"Nothing. You're getting good at that," He sounded almost worried about that fact. Dean had gotten better about the hearing thing, less freaked. He was barely freaked at all anymore, which was an immense relief. I frowned at his worry, braiding my hair and tying it with one of the many hair ties I insisted on keeping in the trunk. I glanced at where Sammy was still talking on the phone with a frown.

"I have it, figure I might as well use it, right?" I reasoned, trying to hide how much his uncertainty about my powers hurt me. John had known something about it. He and my father. My father had known about my abilities… or that I would get abilities… when I was eighteen. Four years and a half before I started with the hearing.

"I hate to say it," Dean spoke up, slamming the trunk and walking over to Sam, "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you they'd be freaked. It's just- it'd be easier-"

"If I was like you or Mel," Sam finished flatly, looking dejected.

"Hey, man, like it or not, we aren't like other people," Dean told him as I came to stand by him and look at Sammy sadly. "But, I'll tell you one thing - this whole gig…" He grabbed a gun, holding it out to his brother. "It ain't without perks," I grabbed a flashlight before shoving the barrel of the pistol into the my jeans, keeping my jacket covering it.

It was silent in the tunnels except for the occasional dripping of water which echoed loudly throughout the sewer. I walked in between Sam and Dean, keeping my gun pointed at the ground and my finger off the trigger. Dean shone the flashlight everywhere at once, illuminating the dark, eerie looking tunnel. I stepped carefully over a puddle of dark liquid that smelled of rotten eggs and made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I tried to hear something, anything, but it was all silent. Whatever this thing was, it moved quietly. There was a slight clang behind us, and we whirled around, letting Sammy take the lead and moving in the opposite direction.

"I think we're close to it's lair," Dean commented, shining his beam on the pipe next to Sammy's head where another glob of melted skin was.

"Why do you say that?" Sam questioned, honestly confused as he held the gun pointed in front of him.

"Look to your right," I told him, and he glanced to his right, quickly jerking away from the goo.

"Oh, god," He wiped off his fingers that had brushed the goo onto his jacket.

"Well, looks like he's lived here for a while." Dean noted, glancing down.

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam muttered, and I turned when I heard a slight scuffle, figuring it was a rat or something. My flashlight beam landed on a asian face with silver eyes.

"Dean!" I cried out a warning, and Dean spun around quickly but not quickly enough. The thing hit him, sending him into the wall with an all too audible crunch. I fired once and Sam got out two bullets before the thing was completely out of sight. "Are you all right?" Dean turned to us, holding his shoulder while looking unbelievably pissed off, and I knew he'd be fine.

"Get the son of a bitch," He growled, and I ran past him after the monster. The drain was already open when I reached the top of the ladder, and I stood in the middle of a park, hearing panting coming from our right. I helped Dean out as he groaned in pain and anger.

"All right," Sam spoke up after a moment of silence. "Let's split up," I nodded, brushing past him to take the right, where I'd heard the panting.

"I'll meet you two on the other side," Dean instructed. Sam took the middle, I was on the right, and Dean the left. I kept the gun out of sight, tucked into the waistband of my jeans. It took about thirty minutes to do a full sweep, and I reached the corner of Washington having nothing to show for my time.

"Sam?" The figure turned, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was Sam. "Did you find anything?" He shook his head, pacing slightly.

"Hey," Dean's voice interrupted us before Sam could reply. He held his arms out in an annoyed gesture. "Anything?"

"No, he's gone," Sam answered, and I shook my head in agreement with Sam.

"Nothing," Dean sighed in anger, looking at me with an unusual expression, an almost hungry expression. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze while he looked me up and down before tearing his gaze away.

"All right. Let's get back to the car," Sam and I crossed the road quickly, but Dean was stopped by a car that beeped loudly at him.

"Sam, I don't think that's Dean," I whispered urgently, never breaking stride.

"What are you talking about? Of course it's him, unless…" The realization hit Sam, and his eyes widened fractionally. "Oh,"

"Yeah," Dean caught up to us, and the conversation ended abruptly.

"You think he found a way underground?" Sam asked as he walked in between Dean and I.

"Probably," Dean answered. "You got the keys?" Sam's eyes flew to mine, and I gave him a pointed look before he fished the keys out of his pocket.

"Hey, didn't dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" Sam inquired like he was trying to remember.

"That was Austin. And it turned out not to be a shapeshifter. It was a thought-form - a psychic projection. Remember?" Dean grinned at us, but something was off about his grin. It was different. And no way would Dean volunteer all that information. Sammy was the know-it-all. Not Dean.

"Oh. Right," Sam glanced at me, grinning easily. "Here you go," He tossed 'Dean' the keys, and 'Dean' caught it, giving me another look before letting out a chuckle and shaking his head. Sam went around to the other side of the car as I slipped my gun out of my jeans and cocked it.

"Don't move!" Sam yelled, and we both pointed our guns at him, trapping the shifter.

"What did you do to him?" I snapped angrily. He hadn't killed any of the others he'd shifted into, so Dean was probably alive, right?

"Come on, chill, it's me, all right?" He looked into my eyes, but his eyes were different. Something about the way they made me feel was different then Dean's eyes.

"No, I don't think so. Where's my brother?" Sam snarled at him, keeping the gun aimed at his chest.

"You're about to shoot him," The shifter tried to reason with us, and I almost pulled the trigger. I couldn't. I needed the shifter to find the real Dean. "Sam, calm down," He turned his head to me, "Mel, come on, you know me,"

"No, I don't. Where's Dean?" I kept my voice deadly calm, refusing to give the monster the satisfaction of seeing my worry.

"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt," That was clever, Sammy.

"Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do, cry?" The shifter was starting to sound more like Dean by the second.

"You're not my brother," Sam sounded sure of himself now.

"Why don't one of you pull the trigger, then, hmm?" The shifter questioned us, and I hesitated. "Because neither of you are sure. Come on," He looked back and forth between Sam and me. "You know me,"

"Stop it," I told it, trying my best to keep my voice low and dangerous. He moved faster than I would've thought possible and Sam went down. I pulled the trigger just as he grabbed the barrel of the gun and turned it away from him. He hissed in pain, wrenching the gun from my hand with an inhumane strength, and fisted his hand in my hair, slamming my head against a hard metal surface. I sunk into darkness.

A blinding pain in my head woke me, and the pulsing only worsened the more awake I became. I messaged my temples, which worked to dull the pain to at least a bearable amount. I surveyed the place I was in. It was dark, but my eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. There was a rope wrapped around my neck and stomach, pinning my arms by my sides, and ensuring I couldn't move. A cold metal was on my back, and I figured he must've tied me to a pole or something. I looked to my right to see Sam tied up on a pole similar to mine. Except they weren't poles, they were thick beams.

"Sam," I hissed, not wanting to attract the monster but needing to know Sam was alright. "Sam," I hissed again more urgently. He stirred, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I searched for Dean, but he was nowhere to be found. Panic rose in me, but I stifled it with effort. There were footsteps coming, and I glanced up to see the shifter, still wearing Dean's body, come in carrying a coil of rope. He walked up to Sammy, conflicted emotions running across his face before his face grew dark and he backhanded Sammy hard, making Sammy's face snap sideways.

"Sam!" I yelled before I could stop myself. The shifter's eyes focused on me, and he tilted his head, regarding me like a science experiment. More emotions crossed his face as he knelt beside me, and then he smirked widely. "What did you do with him?" I met his green eyes unflinchingly. "Where is Dean?" I annunciated clearly, needing to know that Dean was alright.

"I wouldn't worry about him," The shifter straightened, looking back and forth between Sam and I. "I'd worry about you,"

"Where is he?" Sam echoed my earlier question.

"Neither of you really want to know," The shifter told us before smirking. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family… " He trailed off, shaking his head, but focusing on Sam now. I squeezed my eyes shut, racking my brain for a way to get out of this. "I thought I came from a bad background,"

"What do you mean learn?" Sam kept him busy by talking while I tried to reach for the knife in my back pocket. The shifter put a hand to his temple and winced in pain. He was downloading Dean. Like a freaking computer. The temporary headache passed, and he put his fist to his closed lips before looking back at Sam, "He's sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home." Almost got it. Yes. The knife was in my hand. I flicked it open as quietly as I could. It had been a birthday present from Dean actually. Way back when we had dated in high school. Junior year.

"I mean I had to stay home - with dad," The 'I' caused me to fix him with a heated glare. I moved the knife back and forth, ignoring the pain that exploded in my wrist as the metal from the beam chafed me. "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"

"Where is my brother?" Sam asked steadily, trying half successfully to keep the tremors out of his voice.

"I'm your brother," The shifter leaned over him intimidatingly. "See, deep down…I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me, I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later everybody's gonna leave me," My hands froze their work when he said that. I shook my head and focused on working, trying to block out the urge to comfort him. It was still Dean's voice. It still looked like him. It was still painful.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, frowning at the monster.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me too. no explanation. Nothing. Just - poof. Left me with your sorry ass," He turned his attention to me, and his expression changed drastically. "And Mel. Look at her, Sammy." I stopped moving, knowing it would be too obvious if I did. I still had the advantage of surprise. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" He let out a sad, mocking laugh that nearly broke my heart. "You think I don't know that she's too good for me? You'll leave me too, one day. That's what really scares me. It's not all of the monsters and the nightmares in all of this. It's that one day I'll wake up, and you won't be there anymore,"

"You." I put emphasis into every word, fighting the emotion that was rising in me. "Are. Not. Dean." The shifter walked towards me, kneeling next to me again, and I drew my knees to my chest, ready to kick him if I needed to.

"But I am," He disagreed, "He loves you, you know. I love you, I mean," He suddenly sucked in a breath, putting a hand to his head in pain as a fresh wave of memories flooded in. I sawed through more of the rope but quickly stopped when he turned back to me. "And all those woman - all those one night stands - were just to forget about you. Because you left me, Mel, in high school. No explanation - just ended things. Who's to say you won't do it again?" He let out another pained, humorless laugh. "Oh, I don't think I would survive it if you did it again," His voice was rough with emotion, and he put a hand to my throat, forcing my head up with his thumb to look at him.

"Where. Is. Dean?" I got out between clenched teeth, glaring at him fiercely.

"I am Dean, sweetheart," And then his lips slammed against mine forcibly, and I pressed my lips together in a hard line. Two of his fingers found the pressure points below my ears, forcing my lips apart. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I squirmed, trying desperately to get him off.

"You son of a bitch!" I heard Sam shout, fury in his voice. I tossed my head to the side roughly, breaking our lips apart and leaving me gasping for breath. I felt his cold, wet tongue sliding along my jaw before trailing kisses down my neck. One of his knees was pressed on my legs, pinning them to the ground, and that's when I heard the ripping sound. My shirt. My mind registered the horror on Sammy's face, the helplessness, the pain, and white hot rage, and then, the rope snapped. I plunged the switchblade I'd been using into the monster's gut, and it howled in pain, stumbling back before jerking the knife out of it's stomach. It healed immediately and turned a glare on me. My neck was still tied to the beam, restricting my movement, and I pulled on it with all my might. The monster retied my arms to the beam and stowed the knife in his pocket before grinning horridly and wiping his mouth.

"This life, it's not without perks, huh?" He fixed me with his hard green eyes before turning to Sammy, who I saw, to my surprise, was actually shaking in anger. Of course, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't trembling like a leaf. I was going to kill that mother fucking bastard. My shirt was ripped down to the middle of my stomach, exposing most of my black bra. "I meet the nicest people," The thing continued, glancing at me. "Like Little Becky. You know, if Dean wasn't with Mel, he'd bang her if he had the chance. Let's see what happens," He threw the tarp over Sam before coming over to me and scoffing. "This is for stabbing me," He told me, and the last thing I saw was his fist rushing towards my face.

-3rd person-

"Dean?" Sam called to his brother, his voice still shaking slightly, and he glanced back over at the still tarp that covered Mel. He wasn't even sure if she was alive under there, but he couldn't think of that. Instead, he focused on the cough he had heard from behind him.

"That'd better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," Dean's pissed off voice sounded, and Sammy slumped slightly in relief at hearing it. If Dean was pissed now… Sam glanced over at Mel worriedly.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam answered. "He went over to Becky's looking like you,"

"Well, he's not stupid," Dean called back. "He picked the handsome one," Sam frowned, swallowing hard and didn't reply. "Mel's okay?" Dean asked, confident that she would be. Sam didn't reply, a lump forming in his throat along with the panic. "Sam! Is Mel all right?" Dean demanded.

"I don't know," Sam finally responded truthfully. "He knocked her out. She stabbed him,"

"Damn it," Dean worked furiously to get out of his bonds. "What so he just walked out of here looking like me?"

"Yeah, that's the thing," Sam filled him in, struggling to get loose. "He didn't just look like you. He was you." Dean's ropes snapped. "Or he was becoming you," Dean pushed off the rope.

"What do you mean?" He asked, growing angrier by the second.

"I don't know, it's like he was downloading your thoughts and memories," Sammy tried to explain.

"You mean like a Vulcan mind-meld?" Dean struggled with the last two ropes, finally succeeding in pushing them off.

"Yeah, something like that. I mean, maybe that's why he didn't just kill us," Sam theorized.

"Maybe he needs to keep us alive - a psychic connection," He came up beside Sam, unable to keep the worry at bay any longer. "Where is she?" Sam jerked his chin over to the other tarp.

"Over there," Dean hurried to the other one and drew back the tarp, and then everything was silent for a moment.

"What the hell did he-" Dean's voice choked in rage as he started seeing red. There was a groan, and Mel shifted. Dean untied her ropes and caught her as she slumped into him, laying her gently on the ground. "I'm gonna kill him," Dean stated with such fury in his voice that Sam was actually scared for a moment.

Reluctantly, Dean left her side to untie Sam quickly before returning. She groaned again, a hand going to her head as she felt hands on her face. Her eyes fluttered open before widening with sudden terror as they landed on Dean. She may as well have knifed him in the chest. She let out a scream, scrambling back and grabbing for a weapon before Sam lunged forward and caught her wrists tightly.

"It's him. It's him," Mel's eyes focused on Sam before sliding past him to Dean. This time, she actually studied him, met his eyes, the worry, the hidden fear. He came towards her slowly with his hands raised in surrender like she was a wild animal that he was approaching.

"It's me. Okay? That son of a bitch is never gonna touch you again-" He was cut off when Mel flew past Sam and flung her arms around Dean's neck, breathing him in, and trying to get herself under control. After a few moments, she pulled away, breathing unsteadily as she rose to her feet with Dean's help.

"H-he's probably at Rebecca's already," She swallowed hard and regained control, zipping up her jacket so no one could see the bra underneath. "We should hurry,"

-Mel-

The three of us went through tunnel after tunnel until we finally found one that led upwards. Sammy led, I was next, and Dean followed me. I was done feeling scared of the thing that almost… I was done. It was going to die. That was it. End of story. Sammy kicked the metal grate open, and it clattered to the ground loudly, making me wince at the noise. Someone probably heard that.

"Come on. We got to call the police," Sam spoke urgently, pulling me out of hole, and then we helped Dean out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you're gonna put an APB out on me?" Dean asked incredulously.

"He's right, Sam. We can't do that," I glanced up and down the alley we were in. "We'll call in an anonymous tip,"

"Smart. This way," Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him. We jogged to the end of the street and hurried to the nearest pay phone. Dean called it in and then hung up the phone before the woman could start asking any personal questions. He turned to us, stepping out of the booth. "What do we do now?"

"We wait," I answered. The waiting only took half an hour before all the TVs in the window of the TV shop we were outside of turned to the same channel. Channel 6 news.

"An anonymous tip led police to a home in the central west end where a S.W.A.T. team discovered a local woman bound and gagged," A roughly drawn sketch of Dean appeared on the screen in the upper left hand corner. "Her attacker, a white male approximately 24 to 30 years of age was discovered hiding in the home. Shots were fired, and the police are saying…" The anchor droned on.

"Man, that's not even a good picture," Sam and I were busy glancing around to see if anybody was looking at us.

"It's good enough," Sam replied, looking warily at every passerby.

"Come on, we should get away from the screens," I suggested, grabbing Dean's arm and pulling him along behind me. Dean stepped in a puddle, which led to more complaining.

"They said attempted murder, at least we know - " Sam tried to be optimistic.

"I didn't kill her," Dean snapped.

"I'll check with Rebecca in the morning to see if she's all right," Sam told us.

"Do you really think she'll want to see you?" I questioned, not trying to be harsh.

"Either way, first I want to find that devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean growled, and that actually scared me a bit.

"You have no weapons, Dean," I reminded him, worried that he would do something stupid. "No silver bullets," Dean stopped and turned to look at me stormily, and then his eyes flicked to Sam briefly and back to me before continuing to walk.

"The guy's walking around with my face, okay, it's a little personal. I wanna find him," Dean spat out bitterly.

"Okay," Sam agreed, and I glanced at him in shock before finally conceding. "Where do we start?"

"We could start in the sewers," Dean answered.

"We have no weapons," I reminded them again. "He stole our stuff, remember? Where are we going to find silver ammo in this town?"

"The car?" Sam suggested, and I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking for a moment.

"I'm betting he drove over to Rebecca's," Dean added.

"But the news said he fled on foot, which means the car is still there," Dean's eyes brightened for a moment before they darkened considerably.

"The thought of him driving my car," His voice held anger again as he glanced at me. It took us about fifteen minutes to get to Rebecca's, and we'd been walking pretty fast. "Ah, there she is," Dean's voice held relief as we rounded the corner and faced the Impala. "Finally, something went right tonight," Suddenly, sirens filled the air followed by the screeching of tires. "Aw, crap," Dean muttered, instinctively grabbing my hand and pulling me back the we'd come. Another police car blocked that exit. Of course they would have patrol on the car. "This way! This way!" Dean and I ran towards the wooden fence.

"You two go. I'll hold them off," I hesitated, unwilling to leave him there to get detained.

"What're you talking about? They'll catch you," Dean protested, and Sam's eyes met mine.

"They can't hold him. They'll release him within twenty-four hours," I pushed Dean towards the fence. "Meet me at Rebecca's," Sam told us, holding his hands up in surrender. Dean went over the fence first, and then I turned back to look at Sam one last time. "Don't let him do anything stupid," Without responding, I kicked off a trashcan and followed Dean over the edge. Dean caught me easily, steadying me before we were running down the ally, away from the cop cars. We finally came to a stop four blocks away, and I leaned against the wall, panting.

"I need you to go back to the motel," My gaze snapped to Dean in defiance. "Mel-"

"No, Dean," I snapped at him, my anger and emotional stress from the night finally bubbling over. "I'm not going to go back to the motel. I'm not letting you go down into the sewers by yourself unarmed!"

"Why the hell not?" He retorted, turning to me.

"Because that's stupid! And suicide!" I yelled, shoving him. How could he care so little about himself? How was I supposed to take care of him and Sammy when they were so damned determined to get themselves killed?

"He touched you!" Dean had my face between his hands as his eyes blazed with green fire. "He touched you," He repeated quieter, "And when I find him. I'm gonna kill him,"

"When _we_ find him," I corrected him softly, placing my hands on his wrists. "We'll wait till the sun comes up and then head back to the car to get our stuff. Then we go looking for it," I spoke calmly, leaving no room for argument. We stopped at a run down looking chinese restaurant and had some food as the sun came up. It was around seven when we headed back to the car to get the guns.

The tunnels were just as revolting the second time as they had been the first time. Bits of melted flesh and hair were stuck to the walls and floor and sometimes even the roof of the tunnels. I constantly had to check the ground to make sure I didn't step in any of the goo. Dean led, and I kept my gun pointed behind us, watching our backs.

"Dean," I whispered, shining my flashlight on a creepy shrine looking thing that was in the corner. There was a thud to our left, and we both turned quickly towards the sound, guns ready.

"Check it out," Dean told me, "I'll cover you," I crept towards the sound, trying to make as little noise as possible in case it was the shifter. A similar tarp to the one that had been draped over Sam, Dean, and I was covering a human looking figure. I grabbed the tarp and flung it off of a terrified Rebecca.

"It's Becky," I called softly to Dean before turning back to Rebecca, "It's okay. We're not gonna hurt you, all right? You're going to be fine," I suddenly stiffened as I heard footsteps coming from behind me. I stumbled backwards and felt my back hit the cold, hard wall, but it felt a long way off.

"How do you kill it?" That was Becky's voice. I heard the clink of a beer bottle.

"Thanks," That was Sam. There was the creak of a sofa or chair as he shifted. "Silver bullet to the heart," Sam was sitting on something while Becky stood behind him. I could hear their heartbeats and the creaking of the wood as Becky walked behind him. Only it wasn't Becky. It couldn't be Becky because Becky was here.

"You are crazy," There was a thud immediately followed by the shattering of glass and a pained grunt. Then there was another, lighter thud as Sam's body fell onto a soft surface.

"Melody," I blinked dazedly at Dean, who was trying to pull my hands from where they were gripping my head in pain.

"Sam's in trouble. He went to Becky's," I straightened and looked at Dean in fear for Sam. Dean turned back to Becky and began untying her, but not before I saw the fear in his eyes. The hearing and feelings have been getting a lot more noticeable as of late. Becky saw. That sudden realization hit me hard, and I looked down at her with renewed uncertainty.

"What happened?" Dean demanded, talking to Becky.

"I-I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head," She got out between repressed sobs. "And I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don't know - how is that even possible?"

"It's okay," Dean glanced up at me. "It's going to be okay," He looked back at Becky. "Can you walk?" She nodded, and we helped her to her feet before leading her out of the sewers. I tried desperately to hear what was happening inside Becky's house but all I got was a lot of thuds and one massive crash that made me wince.

"They're fighting, I think," I frowned, trying to stretch my hearing harder. We were just reaching the house when I heard Sam's choked grunts. The thing was killing him. I sprinted inside, gripping the gun tightly in my hands. "Get off of him!" I yelled, raising the gun to aim it at fake Dean's heart as Sammy remained limp on the floor. The shifter scrambled off of Sam, looking like a trapped animal. I pulled the trigger, twice, sending two bullets into his chest. The force of the shots sent it into the wall before it fell motionless to the ground. Dean and Becky ran into the room behind me while I lowered my eyes to Sammy, who, to my relief, was propped up on his elbow.

"You okay?" I asked him, and Sam nodded, breathing heavily. Becky rushed over to Sam, laying his head in her lap and making sure he was alright while I slowly headed over to the dead shifter, hearing Dean following behind me. Dean yanked the necklace off of the shifter, replacing it around his neck, and I smiled slightly before reaching into the shifter's pocket and retrieving my knife. He slid the silver ring off of the demons finger, and held it out to show me before putting it back on his finger. I smiled, remembering when I gave him the ring all those years ago and when Samy gave him that necklace.

"It's over," Those two words and Dean's arms around my waist was all it took to make me relax into his chest.

"Yeah," I agreed softly.

-SPN-

Dean spread the map out on the hood of the Impala, and I watched him, leaning on the car door with my arms folded. I glanced to the house where Sammy and Rebecca were coming out the door talking. I didn't try to listen in to what they were saying, but their words floated over to me anyways. I returned my gaze to Dean and pushed off the car, walking over to him.

"Where to next?" I questioned, and he slipped his arm around my shoulders, making me smile.

"Well, there's still the case in Bisbee or one near Boston," He pointed. I did love Boston. One of my favorite cities actually.

"It must be lonely," I heard Rebecca say from behind me. I took the map and turned, so Dean and I could lean on the hood.

"I think we should check out Boston," Dean's arms wrapped around my waist comfortably, and I leaned on his chest as I held the map in front of us. "We can stop and look into the disappearances in Bancroft, West Virginia on our way up,"

"Yeah, I hear they have great apple pie," Dean sounded boyishly excited, making me laugh. We looked over at where Becky was lifting a hand in goodbye to us, and Dean and I returned the gesture. Sam walked over to us with a heavy sigh, and I gave him an understanding, apologetic smile.

"So, what about your friend Zach?" I folded the map as Dean released my waist, heading to the driver's door as I went around the hood to the passenger's.

"Shotgun," I called back to Sam, who led out a small whine of annoyance as I opened the door.

"The cops are blaming this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder. Found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zach's clothes stained with her blood," Sam told us with a look of fake surprise on his face. "Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zach will be released soon," I let out a small laugh, getting into the car and slamming the door behind me.

"Sorry, man," Dean spoke to Sam, glancing in the rearview.

"About what?" He asked.

"I really wish it could be different, you know?" _Me too._ "I wish you could just be Joe College,"

"Ah, it's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in," Sam opened up, and his words worried me more than if he'd said he missed it.

"Well, that's cause you're a freak," Dean told him, and I grinned slightly.

"Yeah, thanks," Sam replied sarcastically.

"Don't worry, Sammy, we're all right there with you till the end," I glanced in the rearview to see both boys laughing.

"Yeah, I know you are," Sam seemed lighter than he had in a long time.

"You know, I got to say, I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it," Dean mused, shaking his head before glancing at us.

"Miss what?" Sam asked, beating me to it.

"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral," I laughed, looking out the window and trying to ignore the persistent tug in my gut as he spoke those words.


	7. Hook Man

****Hey guys so this is the 7th Chapter! I'm debating what chapter to tell Sammy about her 'gifts', so I'd like some reviews on that to help me make a decision because I'm so torn! It's such a struggle. Anyway, hope you like it!****

_Hook Man_

I sat next to Dean, reading over his shoulder while he checked out possible hunts on his laptop. Sammy was not far away on a pay phone, and I could distantly hear him tapping his credit card on the metal phone box. Lately I'd been getting better at filtering out unnecessary noise, like the people who were sitting next to us talking about the puppy their neighbor had just adopted. The waiter came by and gave us our coffee, setting Sammy's down in front of his empty chair. I glanced up to see him walking back towards us with a dejected look on his face.

"Your half-caff double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Francis," Dean greeted him with a cocky grin.

"Bite me," Sam told him, rolling his eyes before sitting heavily, and causing me to smile at the two.

"So, what'd you find?" I asked him, interested even though the hopeless look on Sam's face told me all I needed to know.

"I had them check the FBI's missing-persons databank. No John Does fitting that description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations,"

"Sammy, I'm telling you, I don't think Dad wants to be found," Dean spoke directly to Sammy with a note of sadness in his voice.

"But, look at this," I changed the subject, taking a sip of my coffee before turning the computer to face Sam. "Article out of _Plains Courier_. Ankeny, Iowa," I explained, giving him a moment to scan the article, a bored look on his face. "It's about 100 miles from here," I continued, ignoring the uncertain looks coming from Dean. He wasn't sure this was a case, but I had a feeling it was.

"Mutilated body was found near the victim's car," Sam read off the article. "Parked on 9 Mile Road."

"Keep going," I prompted, waiting for him to get to the questionable part. The part that would help to convince the two boys that this was, in fact, a hunt.

"Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer," Sam kept reading, his face suddenly growing more interested. "The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible," I met Dean's unconvinced eyes, and we had a mini stare down. Finally, Dean turned to Sam, who had been watching us with slight amusement, with a sigh.

"Could be something interesting," Dean backed me up, and I grinned, turning my eyes to Sam. Two to one. I win. Plus Dean drives, so we were going to Iowa.

"Or it could be nothing at all," Sam argued, gesturing to the laptop. "One freaked out witness who didn't see anything doesn't mean it's the invisible man,"

"But, what if it is?" I countered, raising an eyebrow. Sam opened and closed his mouth for a moment, trying to come up with a viable response.

"Dad would check it out," One hour and twenty minutes of rock music later we were approaching Ankeny, Iowa.

"Drop me off here," I instructed, making both boys' eyes snap to me in surprise. "We need covers, and the best way to get these people to talk to us is to fit in," Dean pulled over to the side of the road, and all three of us studied the house for a moment.

"A sorority house?" Dean looked at me with a mix of excitement, lust, and hesitance, making me laugh lightly.

"Would you rather I join the frat boys?" I raised an eyebrow at him, and, for once, Dean Winchester was at a loss for words. "I'll call you as soon as I find something," I promised, leaning forward in the backseat to press my lips to Dean's.

"Hey! Get a room you two," Sam complained, and I pulled away reluctantly while Dean glared at Sam. On my way out the door, I ruffled Sam's hair, causing him to complain again, "What am I five?"

"Take care off him, Sammy," Then I was out of the car and used the keys that Dean had given me to unlock the trunk. I grabbed two guns and shoved them to the bottom of my bag before swinging it over my shoulder and slamming the trunk closed, heading towards the house as I heard the familiar rumble of the Impala leaving behind me.

"Can I help you?" A dark-skinned woman in her early twenties answered the door. I offered her a winsome smile, and she smiled back.

"Yeah, I'm here from Ohio," I told her, glancing at the number on the side of the house as if I was unsure I was in the right place. "I'm joining the sorority here…?"

"Oh," Her eyes brightened in understanding, and she grabbed my arm, dragging me into the house and slamming the door behind us. She pulled me up the stairs to a hallway that was bustling with girls. "Everybody! This is…" She looked at me uncertainly, and I gave her another smile.

"Mel," The words had no sooner left my mouth then she repeated them loudly to the girls, who had frozen and were watching us.

"Mel! She's moving in!" The excited girl turned to me, "I'm Taylor! You can stay with me and Lori. We have an extra bed. Our last roommate just moved out," Everyone had gone back to what they had been doing, and she led me to the room that had a paper taped to it that read 'Taylor & Lori' in big pink bubble letters.

"Thank you so much," I told her as she gestured to the empty bed where I set my bag down. I glanced back at her, and then away quickly as if pondering a question. "Um, sorry, but is it true…" She looked at me in confusion. "You know, about that guy who died?" Her face closed suddenly, and her eyes grew cold and defensive.

"You shouldn't talk about him," She spoke shortly, heading towards the door.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," My words were rushed, and to my relief she paused with her hand on the door. "Were you two dating?" She turned back to me, shaking her head and smiling slightly at the thought.

"Me and Rich? No, but Lori… she's our other roommate," She gestured to the bed in the corner. "He was her boyfriend. She was there when it happened,"

"Oh, my god. She must be pretty freaked out," I tried my best to sound horrified, and apparently did a pretty good job.

"Yeah, just don't talk about it," The girl - Taylor - told me. "You know, Lori and I are leaving in a few minutes to go to a church ceremony they're holding for him. You should come. I could introduce you to the townspeople. There's a fraternity a few blocks from here," She raised her eyebrows suggestively, seeming to return back to normal and shake off the sad memory.

"Sorry," I laughed, "I have a boyfriend," Even as I said those words a smile wormed it's way onto my lips. "But I'd love to go to the service. It's sweet that the church is doing that,"

"Well, yeah. I mean, she is the reverend's daughter," My eyes widened fractionally in interest. That makes things a lot more interesting. Before I could say anything else, the door opened, and an obviously grieving girl came in, sitting on the bed that was pushed against the wall.

"It's time to go," She told Taylor before noticing me and frowning.

"I'm a transfer from Ohio," I explained, smiling, "I'll be rooming with you for a while,"

"She's going with us to the church for the service," Taylor explained.

"If that's alright with you," I quickly added as I saw her uncertainty.

"It's fine. Sorry, I'm just a bit tired. Haven't really slept that much since…" She trailed off and sniffed a bit, and Taylor put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "We should get going," She wiped a stray tear away quickly, looking up at me and giving me a small, forced smile before standing. We talked a bit on the car ride over, and Lori and I got along surprisingly well. She reminded me a bit of me after my dad died, trying to be brave for everybody else and never telling anyone how sad you really were. When we got to the church we sat in the front, which was expected since she was the deceased's girlfriend.

"Our hearts go out to the family of the young man who perished, and my personal prayers of thanks go out, as well, because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter," The preacher nodded at Lori, who just looked up at him with her hands clasped in her lap. "And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means to us as a church…" The loud bang of a door slamming echoed throughout the church and made everyone turn in their seats. I met Dean's eyes as soon as I glanced back, and he held his eyes out to the side in an ''I didn't do anything' gesture while I gave him a look.

"…As a community and as a family." The preacher continued. "The loss of a young person is particularly tragic," Sam and Dean sat in the back row so they didn't draw any more attention to themselves. "A life unloved is the saddest of passings. So, please, let us pray for peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children," I lowered my head, lacing my fingers together and placing them on my lap. "Thank you," We got up as people started filing out.

"Listen, since you're here," Taylor began, "We have to throw a party tonight. It's something we do whenever we get a new girl!" She sounded very excited about that.

"Oh, that's okay, I'm not really the party type," I tried to make excuses, but she wasn't buying them.

"Fine, no party then, just some drinking and games. You can bring that boyfriend of yours," She nudged me as Lori spoke up from her other side.

"I don't think I'm going either. There's a lot of stuff I need to get done, and-" She was interrupted by Taylor.

"Come on, it'll be fun," She whined, looking back and forth between us as we headed for the door.

"I can't," Lori insisted. "It's Sunday night," I was starting to see why Taylor was throwing this thing; Lori did seem like she was in need of a little fun.

"It's just us girls, then," She glanced at me with a slight frown. "Sorry, no boyfriends. We'll just do tequila shots and watch 'Reality Bites'," What in the world is 'Reality Bites'?

"My dad makes us dinner every Sunday night," Lori held firm while Taylor rolled her eyes.

"I'll go," I didn't know why I said that, but it would be easier to keep track of Lori and the rest if they were all in one place. I would keep an eye on them while Sam and Dean hunted the thing that killed Lori's boyfriend.

"See? The new girl's coming, now you have to come," We stopped outside as Taylor tried to convince her. "Come on, Lori. I know this has been hard, but you are allowed to have fun," Lori glanced at me and then at Taylor before sighing.

"I'll try," She promised with a smile. Taylor nodded and hugged her hard before turning to me.

"I'm going back to the house. Are you coming?" I shook my head. She pulled out her phone, and I figured there was no harm in giving her my number. In case anything happened she'd have it to call.

"I'll go back later," I told her before turning to scan the crowd, searching for familiar green eyes.

"Hey," I smiled as Sam and Dean seemed to appeared in front of Lori and I.

"This is Sam and Dean," I introduced them to Lori, figuring she probably trusted me more than she trusted them.

"We just transferred here, uh, to the university," Sam told her, and she nodded, smiling. I glanced back and forth between Sam and Lori curiously before smiling a bit sadly. It was time he moved on from Jessica.

"I saw you inside," Lori answered, gesturing to the church.

"We don't want to bother you. We just heard about what happened," Sam began, giving her his puppy dog-innocent eyes.

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean picked up earnestly.

"I kinda know what you're going through," I had to look away from Sam, knowing what he was about to say, "I-I saw someone get hurt once. It's something you don't forget," Lori nodded sorrowfully, glancing at me, but before she could speak, the preacher came up beside her.

"Dad, this is Sam and Dean. They're new students, and this is Mel, she's my new roommate," Lori introduced us each to her father, who smiled at us.

"Nice to meet you, sir," Dean held out his hand for a handshake, which the preacher excepted. "I must say that was an inspiring sermon,"

"Thank you very much," The preacher smiled at us. "It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message," I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. I glanced between Sam and Lori again to find them looking at each other.

"Listen," I slipped my hand into Dean's, pulling him away slightly as I engaged the preacher in conversation, leading him away with us. "we're actually new in town, and we were looking for a, uh," My brain scrambled for something to say.

"Church group," Dean helped me out, and I shot him a grateful look, "There's no need to be embarrassed," My grateful look turned icy, and I turned back to the preacher.

"You're boyfriend's right. You shouldn't be ashamed. Embrace the Lord's love," I could feel Dean suppressing an eye roll, and I tightened my hand, warning him not to say anything.

"So, when is church group?" I questioned, doing my best to sound interested as the preacher beamed at us.

"Every Tuesday and Thursday at six pm sharp," He let out a chuckle, and I glanced past him to see Sam waving us over.

"Sorry, you'll have to excuse us," I told him politely, "We have classes to get to," We walked over to Sam, who filled us in on what Lori had said as we drove to the library.

"So, you believe her?" Dean inquired skeptically.

"Yeah, I do," Sam told us assuredly.

"We know she's hot, Sam," My lips twitched as Sam stammered out a response to Dean's words.

"No, man, there's something in her eyes," Sam trailed off, thinking for a moment before continuing. "And listen to this, she heard scratching on the roof and found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car," Sam filled us in as I led the boys into one of the aisles.

"Bloody body suspended," Dean stopped us, turning to Sam, and my eyes widened in realization. "That sounds like-"

"The hookman," I finished in for Dean in a whisper.

"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with _the_ hookman," Dean glanced between Sam and I.

"It makes sense if you think about it," I reasoned, "I mean, every legend has a source. Remember Bloody Mary?"

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures? And the invisible killer," Dean argued, still not convinced.

"Maybe the hookman isn't a man at all," Sam suggested. "What if it's some kind of spirit?"

"The spirit of a killer?" I questioned, and Sam shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe someone who thought about killing," An idea struck me, and I walked out of the aisle, getting the librarians attention.

"Excuse me can we see the arrest records for the town please?" I asked her, and she glanced uncertainly at me and then past me at Sam and Dean.

"It's for a paper we're working on," Dean added, and I briefly sent a silent thanks to him. The librarian finally gave in with a sigh and a shake of her head.

"How far back?" She questioned.

"As far back as they go," Sam answered, giving her a winning smile at her weirded out look.

"Um, alright just sit here, and I'll bring them right out," She brusquely walked away, and Sam, Dean, and I sat at the round table.

"Do you really think it's the hookman?" Dean asked, glancing from Dean to me.

"I think it could be," I replied, looking around before looking back at him. "And I also think we don't have any better leads," Dean shrugged and opened his mouth to respond when the librarian came bustling back carrying a cardboard box of files, setting them down in front of the three of us.

"There you go," She spoke cheerfully, "Arrest records dating back to 1851," She set another box on the table, and Dean tentatively leaned forward and blew some of the dust off the cover of one of the lids. I coughed slightly as the dust rose in a cloud, and some stuck to the back of my throat.

"Thanks," Dean told her without so much as a glance in the librarian's direction, which, honestly, made me feel kinda happy considering the librarian was pretty.

"So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?" I shot Dean a look, and he gave me an innocent smile.

"Welcome to higher education," Sam replied, making me laugh as I flipped open the lid of one of the boxes.

I had sifted through forty files and put them into piles of no or maybe. Next to me, Dean was doing the pretty much the same thing with pretty much the same result. Sam had got up and began pacing a few minutes ago and was now leaning against a bookshelf behind me with another file that seemed to have intrigued him.

"Hey, check this out," He finally spoke up, and I turned to look at him. "1862-" I rose and came to stand beside him. "A preacher named Jack was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red-light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes, uh, right here," My eyes were drawn to the sketch of the man with the hook glaring harshly into the distance. "'Some of the deceased were found in their beds, sheets soaked with blood, others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees,'" Dean reached out and took the criminal report, reading it briefly. "'As a warning against sins of the flesh,'"

"Get this," Dean began, and I tore my eyes away from the picture read the report. "The murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident, had it replaced with a silver hook,"

"And, look where it happened," I pointed to the name that was clearly scrawled on the page.

"9 Mile Road," Dean read aloud.

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sammy pieced together. Dean rocked back on his heels, glancing at me with a grin and then at Sammy.

"Nice job, Dr. Venkman. Let's check it out," Just then, my phone rang, causing the people around me to glare. I pulled it out, frowning, and flipped it open.

"Hello?" I answered it, and found a small part of me hoping it was Jez.

"Mel?" I frowned for a moment before I recognized the voice as Taylor's.

"Taylor, hi, what-"

"Where are you?" She interrupted me, sounding a bit annoyed. I opened my mouth to reply when she huffed and continued. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. Just get over here,"

"Why? Did something happen?" I grew a bit worried. Was another person killed?

"Yes, everyone's waiting for you. You said you'd come remember?" Oh. The party.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I don't think-"

"Uh, but you said you'd come," Taylor snapped, sounding really annoyed now.

"Yeah, but something came up," I tried to think of an excuse. "I'm spending the night at my boyfriend's," The words flew out of my mouth before I could think. There was a moment of silence on the other line before she spoke again.

"Fine, have fun," She hung up. This is why I didn't have friends outside of hunting.

"What was that about?" I glanced up from my phone to meet both of the boys grinning faces, like they knew exactly what that had been about.

"Come on," I huffed, storming past them, and hiding a smile. It was pitch black out as we approached where the killer had hung the bodies. Sammy was shining a flashlight out the window, and the headlights were all the way on, which was the only reason we hadn't crashed yet. Dean opened the trunk as I got out and joined him behind the car. He pulled out a shotgun and handed it to Sam.

"There you go," Was all he said as he handed me another shotgun already filled with rock salt.

"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good," Sam pointed out as Dean straightened, holding out his hand filled with rock salt.

"Yeah, I know. Rock salt," Dean explained.

"Salt being a spirit deterrent," Sam realized, loading his gun.

"It won't kill it, though," I pointed out, not sure how much Sam remembered. "It will only slow them down,"

"That's pretty good, you two and John think of this?" He asked us.

"I told ya," Dean slung the gun over his shoulder, and I gave him mine as I fixed my sleeves so they wouldn't get caught. "You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius," I heard a crack in the trees and froze, my hand grabbing Dean's arm instinctively. "What is it?" There was a more audible crack this time, and Sam's gun came up. Something was coming through the trees. Dean took a slight step in front of me, so he covered half my body from anything that would come out of those woods. I spared a glance of annoyance at the back of his head. He'd been doing that ever since we'd started dating. Well, truthfully, he'd been doing it for as long as I could remember, but it became more noticeable after we started dating. Whenever there was anything remotely dangerous, he'd step in front of me, to shield me from whatever was coming.

"Put the gun down now!" I winced as the shout was magnified ten times to my focused ears. "Now!" The man in uniform was yelling roughly at us. I immediately put my hands up, not wanting to get into trouble with the police.

"Wait, wait, wait! Okay, okay!" Dean tried to calm the agitated officer as he dropped my shotgun and his to the ground. I knelt in the dirt, still slightly behind the two boys.

"Now, get down on your knees!" He commanded, and Dean obeyed him. "Come on, do it!" The officer was still yelling although we were on our knees.

"Calm down, calm down! We're on our knees!" I let the fear filter into my voice, knowing it would only help us later when we were making up a story to keep us out of prison. We put our hands behind our heads, and that seemed to calm him slightly. "Get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!" He was still yelling.

"He was pointing the gun," Dean muttered in annoyance as we dropped to our stomachs. He slowly walked towards us and pulled the shotguns away from us before I heard the metallic clicking of handcuffs as the officer snapped them on Dean. Next thing I knew, I was squished in between Sam and Dean riding down to the police department. We were divided into separate rooms, and I was handcuffed to a table in an interrogation room.

"What's your name?" I looked at the man sitting across from me with wide eyes, deciding whether I should be a smartass or scared witless.

"Melody," I answered honestly, still debating.

"You go to school here, Melody?" I nodded without responding. "Where are you from?"

"Ohio," I answered. "I just transferred here. Look, are you going to charge me with something?"

"I'm doing the questioning here," I swallowed my anger at the snide response. "Those two boys your brothers?"

"No," I answered shortly, staring him right in the eyes and watching him begin to shift uncomfortably.

"Sir," I glanced up at the younger officer, who had opened the door. "They're being released,"

"What?" The older man glared at me and stormed out of the room. A couple minutes later a different man came in and took off the handcuffs.

"Follow me," Was all he said, but it was clear he wasn't happy about me being released either.

"Hey," My eyes found Dean and Sam standing by the door of the department, and I walked over to them, silently questioning. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," I nodded, smiling slightly at Dean's concern before signing a form that they had there, and then we walked out the door.

"Saved your asses," Dean announced, grinning at Sammy and winking at me. "Talked the sheriff down to a fine. I'm Matlock," I smiled at Dean's childish pride.

"But how?" Sam questioned as Dean threw his hands in the air like he was God.

"Told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you," Dean laughed.

"What about the shotgun? What about Mel?" Sam fired the questions as we approached the car.

"My awesome girlfriend was helping make it believable," His arm went around my shoulders as he talked, and I grinned again. "And you were hunting ghosts and that spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical hell week prank,"

"And he believed that?" I questioned skeptically, and Dean turned his cocky gaze on me.

"Well, Sammy looks like a dumbass pledge," Suddenly, the door to the department flew open and ten guys poured out, running to their cars and pulling away. I frowned as a bad feeling twisted my stomach and pulled out my phone, quickly dialing and pressing the speaker to my ear.

"Hello?" The panicked voice that answered wasn't Taylor's.

"Lori?" I asked in confusion. "Where's Taylor?" The almost painful twist in my gut and the fear in Lori's voice answered my question before Lori could.

"She-she's gone. I woke up - blood - a-and. Police - but,"

"Lori, calm down," I opened the door and climbed into the car quickly as Sam and Dean followed. I covered the mouthpiece as I spoke urgently to Dean, "Sorority house. Her friend's dead,"

"Oh, my god - I-I couldn't - I-you weren't there - where- where were you? W-what…?" Lori stammered, trying to find the words.

"I'm on my way," I told her. It took us ten minutes to get there with Dean's driving, and we did a quick drive by to see that everything was covered in yellow tape. We made our way past the house and parked on the side of the street behind it. Dean jumped up onto the rocky ledge that was a couple feet off the ground. Sam and I followed him without hesitation.

"Why would the hookman have come here? This is a long way from 9 Mile Road," Sam asked from behind me as Dean led us along the side of the house.

"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else," Dean offered, keeping his eyes on the girls at the door to the house. If they turned around, they'd see us.

"Lori," I replied, making both of them glance at me questioningly. "She's the only one that's connected to both murders. It has to have something to do with her." Two girls walked out the door of the house, and Dean pulled me behind the wall of the house.

"So you're a sorority girl now?" He had that playboy look on his face that I'd come to hate, and I realized I was against the wall with his hands on either side of my waist. "Any chance I'll see a naked pillow fight?" He seemed to realize it was a bad thing to say the moment it left his lips because his face quickly changed to a look of regret. I shoved his chest with both my hands causing him to take a step or two back before I turned to Sam.

"Give me a boost," He held out his clasped hands for me, and I fitted my foot into them.

"Ready?" I nodded and straightened my leg as he pushed his hands upward. The result was that I was able to pull myself onto the second story balcony and look out over the police cars and scared sorority girls. I turned and spotted an open window, walking towards it quietly as I heard Sam and Dean following me. Pulling myself through the window wasn't hard. It was the scrambling to get out of the way before all of Sam's weight was dropped on my back. I got out just in time. Dean fell onto Sam and muttered an apology.

"Try and be quiet, will you?" Sam admonished him as they stood.

"Me be quiet? You be quiet!" Dean snapped back at him, but I was already checking to see if the room was clear. A horrible thought had just occurred to me: I had my bag in that room. My bag had guns in it. The cop was just walking out of the room, and I pushed the door open as silently as I could. It creaked loudly. The cop didn't stop descending the steps. I breathed a relieved sigh and quickly went to my bag, slinging it over my shoulder before turning to the bed soaked in blood.

"'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?'" Sam read the letters that were carved into the wall. "That's right out of the legend,"

"Yeah, that's classic hookman, all right," Dean agreed. "It's definitely a spirit," He continued, tapping his nose. I agreed; the smell was almost overwhelming.

"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before," Sam made a face as he talked. Dean came to stand next to me and look out the blinds while I studied the gruesome message.

"Wait," I walked closer to the message, pointing beneath it to a carved symbol. "That looks familiar," Before either of the boys could answer, there were heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the letters and back towards the closet. We slipped back out the window and climbed down the side of the house. When we arrived at the Impala, I leaned in through the window and picked up the file that was on the passenger's seat, flipping through it until I found what I was looking for.

"It's the same symbol," Dean confirmed as I leaned against the Impala between Dean and Sam.

"Guess it is the spirit of Jacob Karns," I told them, not taking my eyes off the picture.

"Alright, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down," Dean spoke easily.

"After execution Jacob Karns was laid to rest in old north cemetery in an unmarked grave," Well, that doesn't make our jobs any easier.

"Super," Dean muttered sarcastically, going to the driver's side while Sam and I went to the other side.

"Okay, so, we know it's Jacob Karns, but we still don't know where he'll manifest next or why," Sam laid out what we had so far as Dean studied the ticket he'd picked up off the dashboard.

"I'll take a wild guess about why," Dean turned to me. "Mel's right, your little friend Lori has something to do with this," He got into the driver's seat and slammed the door.

"I'll sit in the back," I offered before Sam could open the door. He glanced at me in surprise before turning his eyes to Dean in the driver's seat and then back with a knowing look on his face.

"Mel, back there, that was just Dean being Dean," Against my will, my eyes flicked to the driver's seat and back as Sam talked lowly. "You know how he is,"

"Yeah," I sighed, going to the back anyway, "Just sometimes I wish he wasn't," I winced as I spoke those words and quickly got in to save myself from looking at Sam's stunned face.

-Some 5 hrs later-

"Hey, this college thing is awesome," Dean grinned, coming up to me and Sam. He slipped an arm around my waist, which didn't surprise me considering how many frat boys had tried flirting with me. I was too old for them anyway, but Dean was the jealous type. Not that I minded. He'd apologized earlier about the comment, which had surprised me. Dean didn't normally apologize about anything, ever. He wasn't the best at apologies.

"This wasn't really my experience," Sam admitted, glancing around uncomfortably.

"Let me guess - library, studying, straight As," Sam nodded, and I couldn't help but smile at him. "What a geek."

"Alright," I stopped Dean's teasing. "Did you do your homework?" I asked Sammy, who sent me a mock glare, making me smile.

"Yeah, it was bugging me, right. So, how is the hookman tied up with Lori?" Sam started, unfolding a piece of paper. "So, I think I came up with something." We walked as Sam gave the article to Dean.

"1932 - Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967 - Seminarian held in hippie rampage," Dean began reading the paper.

"There's a pattern here," Sam insisted, although if there was, I couldn't see it. "In both cases the suspect was a man of religion, who openly preached against immorality and then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force - killings carried out - get this - with a sharp instrument,"

"What's the connection to Lori?" Dean questioned, still confused.

"A man of religion who openly preaches against immorality," I repeated as it finally dawned on me, and one glance at Dean told me he understood too.

"Except this time instead of saving the whole town," Sam continued, "He's just trying to save his only daughter,"

"Reverend Sorenson," Dean voiced the name we'd all been thinking.

"But we met him, do you think he'd summon a spirit? To kill people?" Something about that just didn't sit right with me.

"Maybe," Sam told me, shrugging, but looking like he didn't believe it much either. "Or you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?"

"Yeah, the spirit latches on to the Reverend's repressed emotions, feeds off them. Yeah, okay," Dean nodded; it made a lot more sense than the summoning idea.

"The Reverend would never know," I added, shaking my head. Dean looked at me and then to Sam somewhat unhappily.

"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight," He finally stated, his eyes on Sam. I knew what was coming next and frowned.

"What about you two?" Sam asked before focusing on me. "Maybe you should stay too. She seems to trust you," Before either of us could reply, a guy who couldn't have been older than twenty-three, but who was no doubt good looking walked right in between Sam and Dean and I, turning to me.

"Hey," He didn't really get farther than that when Dean wrapped his arms tightly around my waist.

"Hey," Dean replied for me, making me bite my lip to hold in a laugh at the guy's surprised face. Dean and I turned back to a grinning Sam as the frat boy left, "_We_ are gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave," Dean led me to the car, and I climbed in the passenger's seat while he slipped behind the wheel.

"You should go easier on him," I told Dean, knowing the car ride was only a couple of minutes.

"What?" Dean was honestly confused.

"About going to college," I still hadn't confronted Dean about what the shifter had said. Anything the shifter had said.

"Yeah, well, kid went to college. It's fun to tease him," Dean grinned, and I saw right through it.

"You know, Dean, it's alright to be jealous-" That word had barely left my lips when he cut me off.

"Jealous of what? That Sammy got to sit around studying for five hours a day?" He scoffed.

"College isn't that bad-" I defended.

"How would you know?" That stung, and I fell into silence. "I didn't mean that," Dean spoke quietly after a few minutes.

"I know," I answered, turning away from the window to study his profile while he drove. "You could've gone, you know. You were smart enough,"

"Yeah, me and my four-point-o G.P.A," He scoffed sarcastically.

"Dean, you were smart enough," I began only to be cut off again.

"Why didn't you go?" The question caught me off guard. "I talked to Sammy, I know you were accepted at Princeton," I bit the inside of my cheek. I hadn't planned on ever telling him that.

"I didn't want to," I shrugged, going through the cassette collection to avoid looking at him. "We're here," I cut off anything he was about to say. He parked the car, and we got out with flashlights, searching the cemetery. We didn't have to search long before finding the unmarked grave.

"Here we go," Dean started digging while I held a flashlight in one hand and a shotgun in the other. "'I didn't want to' isn't really a reason for not going to college," My heart sunk as he picked up the conversation again.

"I just decided not to. That's all," I told him with a grin that he probably couldn't see. "Besides, it's a good thing I stayed. You, John, and Sammy would've been lost without me,"

"People don't just decide not to," Dean pressed. Sometimes I really hated how he knew me so well.

"Well, I did," I replied.

"Really?" He inquired, panting slightly now and only half way done digging the hole.

"Really," I confirmed, glancing down at him before checking for any sounds. I shined the light on his chest, so I could see his face but he wasn't blinded. He had that sexy smirk spread across his features as he dug. "You want me to say it," It wasn't a question, and Dean's smirk widened until it grew into a smile.

"It would be nice," I sighed, rolling my eyes but grinning all the same, and there was the sound of splintering wood below me.

"I stayed because I didn't want to leave you," I had been holding in that secret for so long the words tasted weird on my tongue. I heard a grunt of effort from Dean, and I realized he'd pulled himself out of the hole. He lowered his lips to mine, and I smiled into the kiss. He deepened it, and I vaguely felt the flashlight slip from my grasp before I brought my arms around Dean's neck. My free hand tangled in his hair, and I felt his arms tighten around my waist. This was my heaven. Right here. Him. I pulled away reluctantly, putting the hand that wasn't holding a gun on his chest to keep him from kissing me again.

"Graveyard. Not romantic." I reminded him, grinning widely despite everything. He sighed, giving me a quick kiss before I could stop him, and stepped back to pick up the salt, pouring it over the bones in the broken coffin. I grabbed the flashlight and shined it down the hole, so he could see what he was doing. He poured alcohol over it to make the bones more flammable before lighting the match.

"Goodbye, preacher," He threw the match down into the pit, lighting up the corpse and watching it burn. I opened my mouth to speak to tell Dean we should go when it happened.

There was terrified screaming. The preacher. A door slammed. Someone was rummaging through something. Panting. A door opened. "Don't. Don't. No, please!". Pounding footsteps. Panting. A door slammed. A door banged open. "No! No!". A gunshot. Something solid shattered. Another shot. A window shattered. "Dad! Dad!". Lori. Coughing.

It all passed in snippets like pictures in a rapid slideshow only instead of pictures it was sounds. Loud. It was too loud. Lori was in trouble. Sam was there. Her dad got attacked by something. Maybe.

"Melody!" My eyes were closed. I couldn't remember closing my eyes, but I forced them open. With them, reality flooded back, and I was snapped out of it. Dean was holding my wrists tightly, pulling them away from my ears, and I met his eyes with my wide ones. I was panting and shaking and sweating, and I needed to get myself together.

"Fine," I forced the word out of my mouth. "I'm fine," I calmed a bit.

"No, you're not," Dean snapped, sounding scared and concerned. "They're getting worse," It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. "Damn it,"

"Call Sam," I told him, and his eyes widened. It was probably the one thing I could've said that forced him to stop worrying about me so much. He dialed Sam's number, and, after two rings, Sam picked up. I felt as though a weight had been lifted off my chest as soon as I heard his voice come over the other line. He was fine. Dean was fine. I would be alright. I stood up from where my back had been pressed against the cold metal of a marble gravestone, and made my way to Dean just as he was hanging up.

"We're meeting him at the hospital. Lori's dad was attacked by the spirit," I frowned, glancing at the pit we'd just spent a good twenty minutes finding and digging up.

"I thought it was over," Dean shrugged, clenching his jaw in anger while looking at me.

"So did I," He turned and began heading back to the Impala, leaving me no choice but to follow. "What did you hear, exactly?" Dean finally broke the silence two minutes into the drive.

"Bits and pieces," I looked out the window and into the black forest. "It's like watching a preview to a movie, except with just sound," I tried to explain what was happening.

"Did you…" He made a gesture and trailed off.

"No, I didn't feel anything this time. Just sound," Dean sighed heavily, and I turned my gaze on him. "Dean, I don't know-"

"We have to something about it," Dean's statement left me feeling strangely defensive.

"No," I hadn't planned on speaking the word, let alone making it sound so firm and borderline aggressive. He glanced at me with shock written across his features.

"Mel, it's hurting you. You saw what happened just now. You were in pain," I shook my head at his arguments.

"I can save people," I insisted. "I just haven't figured out how to use it properly yet,"

"It's been four years, Mel," He snapped. "If we haven't figured it out by now. I don't think we ever will," He pulled up in front of the hospital, and we rushed inside. We were stopped by two police officers before we could get to Sam.

"Oh, it's alright, we're with him," Dean told them, pointing to Sam. "That's my brother. Hey, brother," Dean called to Sam, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing aloud. The sheriff waved us through, and we walked up to Sam and him. I threw my arms around his neck as soon as I got close enough, not wanting to fully admit how worried I'd been.

"You okay?" I asked for both of us as I pulled away after a moment.

"Yeah," Sam smiled at me before turning serious as we turned and began walking down the hallway.

"What the hell happened?" Dean questioned.

"Hookman," Sam sounded angrier than before.

"Wait, you saw him?" I double checked.

"Damn right," Sam turned to stand in front of us, forcing us to stop. "Why didn't you two torch the bones?"

"What are you talking about? We did. Are you sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?" Dean asked him.

"Sure as hell looked like him. And that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching onto the reverend," Sam stated the obvious.

"Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the hookman after himself," Dean pointed out before I could say an equally sarcastic remark.

"I think it's latching onto Lori," Sam's revelation caught my interest.

"Why her?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Last night she found out that her father was having an affair with a married woman," Sam told us.

"So what?" I turned slowly to give Dean a look that he returned with an innocent shrug.

"So, she's obviously upset about it," I continued for Sam. "Upset about the immorality of it," I realized as I spoke what Sam was getting at.

"Exactly, she told me she was raised to believe if you do something wrong, you get punished," Sam informed us.

"Okay, so she's conflicted, and the spirit of preacher Karns is latching onto her repressed emotions. And maybe he's doing the punishing for her," Dean worked out.

"Right," Sam agreed. "Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl," He listed the people that had gotten killed. "Dad has an affair,"

"Remind me not to piss this girl off," Dean shifted.

"But we burned the bones," I continued, dropping my voice to a whisper. "Their done. So, why's he still running around trying to hook people?"

"You must've missed something," Sam told us, and Dean considered it for only a split second before shaking his head and turning to the windows.

"No, we burned everything in that coffin," Dean spoke with confidence.

"Did you get the hook?" My eyes snapped to Sam as my mind went a mile a minute.

"The hook?" Dean echoed.

"There wasn't a hook," I spoke quickly, trying to work out where it could be. "It was the murder weapon,"

"And, in a way, it was part of him," Sam added.

"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power," Dean realized.

"We need to find the hook, so we can stop the hookman," I stated. Never thought I'd say that. Next stop was the library, which turned out to be a couple hours of researching.

"Here's something, I think," Dean leafed through the pages of the huge book he was going through. "Logbook. State penitentiary," He told us at our inquiring looks. "Karns, Jacob - personal affects, disposition thereof," He mumbled, moving his finger along the words as I leaned over from the chair next to him to read the words.

"Does it say anything about the hook?" Sam asked, and Dean held up a finger.

"Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas church," Dean finished reading and looked up at us.

"That's where Lori's father preaches," I told them, remembering the church.

"Yeah, it's where Lori lives," Sam agreed as everything started to make sense.

"Maybe that's why the hookman's been haunting Reverends and Reverends' daughters for the past 200 years,"

"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might have seen it? I mean, a bloodstained silver-handled hook?"

"We should check the church records,"I told Dean as he looked to me. He took the cap out of his mouth and pressed it onto the pen. We got the church records easily enough, and Sammy read it out loud for us.

"St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received - silver-handled hook from state penitentiary." He gave an annoyed sigh, and I knew what was coming before he spoke. "Reforged,"

"Great," I muttered sarcastically. "It could be anything in that church," Dean closed his book, and set it on the table before standing. We hurried out of the library and back to the Impala before driving in a tense silence to the church.

"All right," Dean began as he got out of the car carrying his duffel with salt, gasoline, and matches. "We can't take any chances," We walked towards the church. "Anything silver goes in the fire,"

"I agree," Sam nodded.

"Me too," I came up beside them, holding a shotgun filled with rock salt. "But Lori's at the hospital, which means we'll have to let ourselves in,"

"All right, not a problem" Dean gave me a crooked smile and a wink before turning to Sam, "take your pick,"

"I'll take the house," Sam chose, and Dean grinned.

"Okay," Sam started towards the house. "Hey," Dean stopped him, making him half turn. "Stay out of her underwear drawer," I let out a small laugh, not caring when Sammy sent me a look and Dean a frown. I turned and started walking towards the church as silently as I could.

I took the top floor and Dean took the basement, collecting anything even remotely resembling silver and stuffing it into big bags before lighting a fire. Dean and I took turns tossing silver items into the flames and watching as they were devoured. Suddenly, there were footsteps above us on the stairs. I spun quickly, instantly aware of how vulnerable Dean and I were.

"I got everything that even looks silver," I immediately relaxed at the sound of Sammy's voice and turned back to throwing items into the fire.

"Better safe than sorry," Dean told him, throwing something else that might've been a vase into the fire. Then, there was a creaking above us. We froze. The creaking didn't stop, and it became clear that someone was up there. "Move, move," Dean ordered, and I snatched the shotgun I'd taken off the floor and reached the stairs first, taking them cautiously before pushing the door open lightly. I stepped onto the carpeted floor to see Lori seated in one of the rows with her hands clasped in front of her. I lowered the shotgun and turned a look on Sam. Dean jerked his head towards Lori, and Sam headed her way while I passed Dean and descended the stairs as he closed the door behind us.

"Give me that," He took the shotgun from me and cocked it.

"I don't need to be protected, Dean," I snapped at him, finally having enough. "I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself,"

"Yeah, I can see that from the way you almost get yourself killed trying to save a drowning man who's already dead!" Was he… that was almost two months ago!

"I'm not-" I began hotly before my eye caught a dark figure behind him. "Dean!" I yelled, but it was too late. He whipped around, raising the shotgun only get hurled into the wall. "Dean!" I screamed his name again as there was a deafening crash of him hitting something. I backed away from the spirit quickly, not having anything to defend myself with. My back hit the wall, and the thing raised his hook, but I grabbed the nearest thing and swung it at him. Sometimes, spirits or ghosts remember feeling fear of something like a bullet or knife, and it freezes them for a moment. Unfortunately, that didn't work. The hook came down, and I had to dive out of the way.

I scrambled for the bag as the thing chased me, and I yanked out the salt, turning and spraying it everywhere. The spirit disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared, and my eyes found Dean's motionless body under the remains of a wooden bookshelf. I crawled over to him, dragging him out from under the larger wooden pieces.

"Dean?" I checked him for a pulse with shaking fingers and squeezed my eyes shut hard, trying not to cry with relief. He'd looked so pale when I'd seen him. So… dead. I'd thought… I shook my head to rid myself of the lingering thoughts. "Dean, come on," There was a crash from above, and there was Lori's scream quickly followed by Sam's multiple shouts. I turned to Dean, grabbing his jacket and shaking him roughly. "Dean! Wake up," I checked his head for any wounds, but found only a bump forming in the back. There was another scream from above me, and I spotted the shotgun lying a couple feet away.

"Just please, Dean," I begged him, torn between wanting to help Sam but not being able to leave Dean. I straddled his chest, an idea coming to me. I punched him straight across the face. His eyes fluttered open, and he gasped a bit, jerking up and making me scramble off of him and towards the gun. "Sam's in trouble. Come on," I forced the words around the lump in my throat. I led Dean, running towards the sounds of fighting before aiming the gun at the hookman, who was standing over Sam and Lori.

"Sam, drop!" Dean yelled, and Sam dropped without hesitation. The hookman disappeared and the rock salt made a dent int the wall. Sam was panting on the floor, holding his arm and looking up at us in confusion.

"I thought we got all the silver," Sam gasped, and my eyes found his arm in concern. He was bleeding.

"So did I," Dean agreed.

"Then why's he still here?" Sam yelled in anger.

"We must've missed something," I snapped at them both, glancing around and cocking the shotgun just to be safe.

"Lori, where did you get that chain," My eyes dropped to the silver looking necklace around her neck. Of course.

"My father gave it to me," She explained in a rush.

"Where'd your dad get it?" Dean demanded.

"He said it was a church heirloom. He gave it to me when I started-" She began breathing hard.

"Is it silver?" I cut her off, knowing we were a bit pressed for time.

"Yes!" She cried, and Sam yanked it off her neck. Suddenly, there was the sound of something sharp scraping against the plaster of the wall, drawing a jagged line towards us.

"We have to burn the necklace," My sharp words snapped everyone out of there trance, and Dean turned to Sam.

"Sam," Sam tossed him the necklace, and Dean tossed him the rock salt he kept in his pockets.

"I'll stay," I told Dean as he turned to me. Dean hesitated, "I'll be fine," I promised, smiling slightly at his obvious concern. "Sam's hurt anyway. Be careful," I told him earnestly.

"You too," He turned and sprinted back the way he'd come as I pointed the shotgun at the wall where the jagged line was being drawn and fired. I quickly snatched one of the rock salt packs from Sam and reloaded the gun.

"Mel, behind you!" Sam yelled, and I spun, raising the weapon only to have it knocked from my grip. I ducked the swipe the hookman took at my head and crawled backwards. Sam threw an arm protectively over my stomach and another one over Lori's as we half lay on the floor. The spirit raised his hook, and I desperately searched for a weapon to use. As it turned out, I didn't have to, for, at that moment, the hook began to shrivel and melt. Before long, orange glows started appearing all over his body, and he burned away into ash. Sam let out a grunt of pain as I stood shakily, brushing myself off even though I knew it would probably do nothing to improve the way I looked. I probably looked like hell frozen over.

"We don't tell Dean I lost the gun," I told Sammy, who managed a small laugh as I went to pick it up. "You okay?" I asked, glancing at the cut on his forearm. It didn't look so bad; I'd patch it up once we get to the car. Heavy panting caused me to look up at Dean, who stopped running a few feet away. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, fisting my hands in his jacket and burying my head in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around my waist securely. Maybe I was wrong. Sometimes I do need Dean to protect me.

-SPN-

"You two saw him too? The man with the hook?" The sheriff double checked, looking doubtful.

"Yes, we told you. We all saw him," Dean spoke exasperatedly at the officer.

"We fought him off, and then he ran," I finished the story, putting a gentle hand on Dean's arm to stop him from making his usual smartass comment to the sheriff.

"And that's all?" the sheriff prompted.

"Yes, that's all," Dean conceded, glancing at the Impala and looking like he was ready to leave.

"Listen," The sheriff began threateningly, pointing at Dean's chest. "You, your girlfriend, and your brother-"

"Oh, don't worry. We're leaving town," Dean grabbed my hand and shot one last look at the sheriff before heading towards the car. I got into the passenger's seat as he got into the driver's, glancing at his wing mirror to see Lori and Sam talking. I glanced at mine to see Sam walking away from Lori.

"He'll get over Jessica. He just needs time," I told Dean, who was biting his lip and thinking. He looked over at me and smiled a bit as I slipped my hand into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, I know he will," Dean glanced past me at Sam, who was standing outside. I jerked my thumb at the backseat and heard a satisfying, annoyed sigh from outside. Sam climbed into the back reluctantly.

"I'm injured," He whined.

"And I'm the reason you're not dead," I retorted, glancing at the rearview to see his mouth twitch a bit.

"We could stay," Dean offered, already knowing he'd turn it down. Sam just shook his head.


	8. Bugs

****REVIEW PLEASE! Ideas, suggestions, comments, favorite quotes, anything! Thanks so much. I love you all!****

_Bugs_

The trick was to snap your wrist at the right moment. The gruff, bearded man next to me let out a loud groan, and a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I heard his buddy echo the sound. I straightened from where I'd been leaning over the pool table and held the cue delicately in one hand as I beamed at the man who was counting out twenties. He handed them over reluctantly, and my smile widened as Dean came up holding two beers.

"How much?" I counted out the twenties before his eyes. We'd had a small bet about how many people we could hustle in one month. So far I was up ten to eight. It was only a week in.

"Hundred-fifty," I accepted the beer, and, noting Dean's slightly sour look, added, "Cheer up, Dean. There's still three more weeks," I laughed as I walked back to the car where Sammy was hunched over a newspaper on the hood. I held up the money and wiggled my eyebrows as I approached the black Impala, which made Sam roll his eyes at me.

"You know, we could get day jobs once in a while," Sam pointed out.

"Hunting is our day job, and the pay is crap," Dean replied as I passed him the money and he counted it out again.

"Yeah, but hustling pool, credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, guys," Sam insisted, giving us a admonishing look that made me feel like I was a toddler getting scolded.

"He actually has a point," I admitted, glancing at Dean and biting my lip in false thought as I leaned on the driver's door. "You and Dean would make excellent cashiers, Sam," I raised my eyebrows at Sam, who opened and closed his mouth for a moment. "Or waiters, or-"

"I get it," Sam cut me off, giving me another look to which I grinned. "I'm just saying, there are more honest ways of making money,"

"Come on, Sam, it's what we were raised to do," Dean brushed off Sam's guilty conscience.

"Yeah, well how we were raised was jacked," Sam reminded us bitterly. As if we needed reminding. We were sitting outside a bar with a car that held all of our possessions.

"We got a new gig or what?" Dean changed the subject quickly just like he did whenever our past came up.

"Maybe," Sam stated cryptically, jumping off the hood. "Oasis plains, Oklahoma - not far from here. Gas company employee," He came around the car, and set the newspaper down on the hood. "Dustin Burwash supposedly died from Cruetzfeldt-Jakob,"

"What?" I asked at the last part, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Human mad cow disease," Sam explained shortly.

"Mad cow?" Dean echoed in confusion. "Wasn't that on 'Oprah'?" Sam and I both turned to look at him in incredulity.

"You watch 'Oprah'?" Sam questioned, and Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Mel makes me," I cocked an eyebrow at him as he turned to me and then back to Sam, who clearly didn't believe him. "So," He went on quickly before Sam could question him further. "This guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?" I turned back to Sam, trying desperately to hold in the laugh that was begging to escape.

"Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration," Sam started.

"But that should take months, maybe years to show, and this guy…" I nodded to the newspaper, thinking I knew where Sam was headed. Sam nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah, sounds like his brain disintegrated in an hour, maybe less," Well, this is definitely our kind of thing.

"Okay, that's weird," Dean conceded.

"Yeah," Sam added. "Now, it could be a disease,"

"But when is it just a disease?" I followed Sam's logic, and he nodded in agreement.

"All right, Oklahoma," Dean clapped his hands together and headed over to the driver's seat as I opened the passenger's door. "Man, work, work, work. No time to spend my money," I looked up at him and raised and eyebrow challengingly.

"You're money?" I echoed, making him grin cheekily.

"Our money?" He offered, and I just shook my head, smiling widely as I got in.

Two and a half hours later we were pulling up in front of Oklahoma Gas & Power Co., which was a large bleak looking building painted a pale pink. It was almost too depressing to look at. We got out and headed towards the building to check on the coworker who witnessed the whole thing, or so the papers said.

"Travis Weaver?" Sam questioned as we came up to a man who was fixing his car.

"Yeah, that's right," He gave all three of us a nervous glance.

"Are you the Travis who worked with Dusty?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam before slipping his hand into mine, making it clear what role I'd be playing. Supportive girlfriend. The trick worked, and Travis' posture instantly relaxed and he smiled at us.

"Dustin never mentioned nephews," Travis was still slightly suspicious, but the comment was more conversational then anything.

"Really?" Dean asked in surprise. "Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest," I slipped my other hand around Dean's elbow and looked at Travis with large eyes.

"Oh, he did? Huh," Travis grinned, looking down before back up at us with sad eyes.

"So, we wanted to ask you - what exactly happened out there?" Dean got down to the real reason we were here.

"I'm not sure," Travis confessed, shaking his head and shrugging. "He fell in the sinkhole. I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh, by the time I got back…" He shook his head again as if the image was too horrible to picture.

"What'd you see?" Dean asked, and I gave his arm a gentle squeeze, warning him not to be to pushy.

"Nothing. Just Dustin," Travis replied, shaking his head again as though to shake off some unwanted memory.

"No wounds or anything?" Sam prompted, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Well, he was bleeding from his eyes, and his ears, and his nose, but that's it," Another shrug and a pained look in his eyes.

"But, I mean," I cut in, looking at him with wide, horror-filled eyes, "Do you think it could really be mad cow disease?" He shrugged again as if it didn't really matter all that much.

"Yeah, I mean, that's what the doctor's are saying," Travis told us.

"But if it was, he would have acted strange beforehand, like Dementia, loss of motor control. Did you ever notice anything like that?" I suppressed a wince at how much of an interrogation that sounded like.

"Nah, no way," This time the head shake was firm and convinced. "Yeah, but then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?"

"That's a good question," Dean answered, glancing at me.

"Could you maybe tell us where this happened?" I suggested hopefully, and he nodded.

"Yeah, A couple miles up the road there's a construction site. Oasis Plains Estates. They're building homes. You can't miss it," He pointed down the road we'd just come up.

"Thanks," Sam, Dean, and I headed back to the car.

-30 minutes later-

"Huh, what do you think?" Dean questioned Sam and I as he walked between us towards the yard. I glanced at the caution tape surrounding a sinkhole and flinched at the terror that flashed through me.

"I don't know, but if that guy Travis was right, it happened pretty damn fast," Sam recalled, and I nodded as Dean passed under the caution tape. I followed quickly after and joined him in leaning over the dirty hole.

"So what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?" Dean offered as I shined a light down the hole, trying to see any clue I could.

"No," I answered for Sam. "There would've been an entry wound," I couldn't see anything past the roots that were intertwined and covered the hole. "I think whatever this thing was was inside him when it killed him," We crouched as I shined the flashlight around, barely illuminating anything.

"It looks like there's only room for one," I straightened hurriedly in surprise, clicking off the flashlight and turning as Dean slipped back under the yellow tape. "You want to flip a coin?"

"Dean, we have no idea what's down there," Sam pointed out in shock before I could get a word out.

"All right, I'll go if you're scared," Dean brushed off his concern, picking up the hose and walking back over to us. I rolled my eyes, knowing Sammy wouldn't back away now.

"Flip the damn coin," He ordered, making Dean chuckle before fishing a nickel out of his pocket and handing it to me. I sighed, taking the coin. Men.

"All right, call it in the air," With swiftness that comes from years and years of practice, I balanced the coin on my thumb and sent it spinning into the air. Sam snatched it out of the air, glaring at Dean.

"I'm going," He stated, leaving no room for argument. I shrugged and glanced at Dean, knowing that he had never wanted to go down there.

"I said I'd go," Dean offered halfheartedly as Sam determinedly picked up the hose and began wrapping it around his waist.

"If he wants to go, let him," I told Dean, sending a grin at Sammy, who gave me a look.

"All right," Dean agreed with a shrug, and Sam started tying the hose.

"Don't let him drop me," He didn't look up from where he was tying the knot, but it was clear he was talking to me.

"Don't worry, Sammy. You'll be fine," I gave him the flashlight, and he was lowered into the hole by Dean, who grunted with effort and grumbled something about 'Sam' and 'so damn tall'. It was times like this that I was reminded why Dean had such an incredible body while he ate nothing but junk food all day. While I tried not to stare at him (he had his jacket off and the grey shirt he was wearing really showed off his biceps), Dean fed Sammy more rope until it finally went slack.

"Hey, I think I found something," Sam called up to us, and I leaned over the edge of the hole to see what he'd found. All I could see was a hidden spec of light. "Pull me back up," He tugged on the rope to emphasize his words, and Dean groaned before starting to haul him back up. I caught his hand as soon as he came within reach, and Dean did the rest.

"What did you find?" I couldn't stop the curiosity from bubbling over, and my gaze dropped to Sam's closed hand.

"I'll show you in the car. Come on," We crossed the street to the Impala, and I leaned my elbows on the front seat to look over Sam's shoulder at what he found, which was a bug.

"A beetle?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Sam replied but didn't bother elaborating.

"So, you found some beetles in a hole in the ground. That's shocking, Sam," Dean grew frustrated with his silence as Sam poked the dead beetle around his hand.

"There were no tunnels, no tracks, no evidence of any other kind of creature down there," Sam explained finally, waving his arm for emphasis. "You know, some beetles do eat meat," I made a face. "Now, it's usually dead meat, but-"

"How many did you find down there?" Dean interrupted him.

"Ten," Sam responded, poking the beetle again.

"Well, it would take a lot more then ten to kill Dustin," I pointed out even though I was starting to get a feeling he might be right. I really hoped not.

"Well, maybe there were more," Sam replied.

"I don't know. It sounds like a stretch to me," Dean sounded unconvinced, and I glanced at Sam uncertainly.

"Still, it's worth checking out. We don't have anything else to do," I abruptly switched sides.

"Exactly, thank you, and we need more information on the area, the neighborhood," Sam listed.

"Yeah, whether something like this has ever happened before," I added, nodding and turning to Dean. "Can't hurt," He pursed his lips, his eyes following something through the windshield.

"What?" Sam asked, and my eyes followed Dean's gaze to an 'open house' with balloons hanging off of it.

"I know a good place to start," Dean grinned, glancing at us. "I'm in the mood for a little barbecue, how about you?" Dean followed the sign down the road as Sam turned to give him a look. "What, we can't talk to the locals?"

"And the free food's got nothing to do with it?" Sam already knew the answer to that, and I relaxed into the backseat.

"Of course not. I'm a professional," Dean told him, pulling into an open parking space in front of the house. I slid out of the back seat, enjoying the fresh air and the chance to stretch my legs before we started 'working'. I walked in the middle of the two boys as we went up the driveway to the nice house.

"Growing up in a place like this would freaked me out," Dean let out a small laugh.

"Why? I think it would be kind of nice," I admitted, looking around at the surrounding houses. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I could actually see myself raising a family, having kids, getting married. I glanced at Dean. Of course, none of that really mattered without him.

"The manicured lawns, the 'how was your day, Honey?' - I'd blow my brains out," For some reason, that comment stung me a bit, but I kept it hidden.

"There's nothing wrong with normal," Sam cut in before I could say anything. "I'd take our family over normal any day," Dean stated, glancing at me, and I couldn't help but smile at that. Dean knocked on the door of the house, and it was opened a moment later, revealing a formally dressed man with a big smile.

"Welcome," He greeted.

"Is this the barbecue?" Dean wasted no time in asking.

"Yeah, not the best weather, but…" He trailed off, leaning forward and glancing at the darkening sky before straightening and holding out his hand to Dean. "I'm Larry Pike, the developer here, and you are?"

"Dean," Dean filled in, accepting the handshake. "This is Mel and Sam," The man - Mr. Pike - offered his hand to me next, and I took it graciously, smiling at him.

"Mel, Sam, Dean, good to meet you," He shook Sam's hand last before returning it to his side. "So you three are interested in Oasis Plains?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered him.

"Let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, sexual orientation, color, or…" He trailed off gesturing to us uncertaintly, "Beliefs," I furrowed my brow at him in horror. _What exactly did he think was going on?_

"She's my girlfriend," Dean slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me slightly closer to him as he cleared that up.

"They-They're brothers," I added helpfully, trying my best not to stammer like an idiot and failing.

"Our father is getting on in years," Sam pointed to Dean and himself, "And we're just looking for a place for him," He glanced at me almost apologetically, and I gave him a wide smile.

"Great, great," He spoke enthusiastically, trying to bypass the awkwardness, "Well, seniors are welcome, too. Come on in," He moved aside and waved us through the doorway.

"You said you were the developer?" Sam questioned as we exited the house onto the patio.

"Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels," He turned to walk backwards so he could see our faces as he told the story. "And you know what? We built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself," I frowned, a sudden bad feeling twisting my stomach. "This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains. This is my wife, Joanie," She smiled at us, holding out her hand to shake.

"Hi, there," Joanie greeted, still smiling.

"Hi, nice to meet you," I accepted the hand and shook it. Dean and Sam did the same.

"This is Sam, Dean, and Mel," Larry pointed to each of us in turn as he said our names.

"Pleasure," She said cordially.

"Tell them how much you love the place, Honey," Larry prompted, making me raise my eyebrows in slight shock. "And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses," I smiled at his joke as he turned to face us again, "If you'll excuse me," He walked towards another couple that had just come through the door.

"Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live," Joanie reassured us with another award winning smile.

"Hi, I'm Linda Bloom, head of sales," A perky, feminine voice came up behind Joanie.

"And Linda was second to move in," Joanie told us, gesturing to the redhead that was beside her, "She's a very noisy neighbor though," Linda laughed at the joke.

"She's kidding, of course. I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners?" She asked.

"Well, not-" I began only to be cut off by Sam.

"Y-yeah," I glanced at him in surprise. "We're looking to buy a house,"

"Well, let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, sexual orientation, color, or… beliefs," She curled her lip slightly at that. _Why would people think that?_

"Right," Dean muttered, not bothering to correct her and instead lacing his fingers through mine. "_We_ are going to go talk to Larry," He held up our joined hands pointedly. "Okay, Honey?" We walked away from Sam to 'look for Larry', but, knowing Dean, we were probably headed for the food. Not that I was complaining, I'd barely eaten all day.

"Hey," Larry greeted, seeming to pop out of nowhere. "Leaving already?"

"Actually, we were looking for you," I smiled at him, "We were wondering if you would give us a tour of the house,"

"Ah, thinking of getting one for yourself?" He grinned before gesturing for us to follow him. "I don't blame you. It's a great house - perfect for newly weds," He gave us a look, and I felt my face heat up as we were led up the stairs. I avoided looking at Dean, and, thankfully, Larry went on before I was forced to say anything. "You can get a choice of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, if you want kids, or two bedrooms and three bathrooms. This is only for the second floor of course." He opened some doors, which led to nicely furnished rooms.

"What about that construction guy?" Dean asked him, and I saw his back stiffen. "What was his name… Dylan?"

"Dustin," Larry corrected, shaking his head and turning to us. "You two really do your research, huh?"

"We just prefer to know about a neighborhood before we consider it," I told him with a polite smile.

"It was a shame what happened to him," Larry shook his head again in pity. "Poor guys,"

"He wasn't the first?" Dean questioned and earned another head shake.

"There was a guy about a year ago, before the construction started. A surveyor - he died on the job. They said he had an allergic reaction to the bees." Dean and I exchanged a glance. There was a moment of silence before he lead us back down the stairs. "Anyways, enough about that, let's talk about floors. You have three choices - carpet, hardwood, and tile,"

"Whoa," I glanced up at Dean and followed his gaze to the jars that were sitting on a small coffee table. "Someone likes bugs,"

"My son," Larry sighed, a disapproving look in his eyes. "He's into insects. He's very inquisitive. but if you have any questions, here's my number," He wrote his number down and handed it to me. "Come on we should go back outside…" He trailed off, and I scanned the backyard for Sam, spotting him near the back, talking to a kid who was holding a tarantula. Larry marched across the yard towards his son with a stern look on his face. "I am so sorry about my son and his… pet," He began by apologizing to Sam.

"It's no bother," Sam assured him as I came up beside him.

"Excuse us," Larry grabbed his son's arm and steered him away from us, past Dean, and back into the house.

"Remind you of somebody?" Sam questioned us, glancing down at me and then at Dean. My eyes flicked to where Larry was yelling at his son on the porch. "Dad?" Sam prompted, and I decided to stay out of the argument.

"Dad never treated us like that," Dean protested, frowning at the kid, who was still getting castigated. I bit the inside of my cheek as I remembered what it was like back then.

"Well, Dad never treated you or Mel like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case," I felt Dean's eyes on me, but I avoided his gaze, choosing instead to study the buffet table. "You don't remember?" Sam was getting more and more pissed off.

"Maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes you were out of line," That was true. An understatement, yes, but true.

"Right," Sam laughed coldly, "Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bow hunting," I remembered that all too well. For three weeks I'd taken Sammy to soccer practice secretly. No one had ever found out, but if John had….

"Bow hunting's an important skill," Dean defended his father, and I looked away again, not being able to meet his eyes.

"Whatever," Sam muttered rolling his eyes. "How was your tour?"

"It was great," I cut in. "Very informative,"

"We're ready to buy," Dean added. "So you might be onto something. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here,"

"What happened?" Sam asked, lowering his voice.

"Almost a year ago, before they started digging, Larry had a surveyor that dropped dead. Here's the interesting part - they called it a severe allergic reactions to beestings,"

"More bugs," Sam pondered.

"More bugs," I confirmed, knowing we were all finally on the same page. We went back around to the front of the house and got into the Impala as the sky grew dark. Thankfully, it hadn't rained while we were at the barbecue, and now night was approaching, which meant we needed to find a motel to stay at.

-3rd POV-

"I've heard of killer bees, but killer beetles?" Dean questioned from the passengers seat as Sam drove. He glanced up to see Mel fast asleep, stretched out over the three backseats. He returned his gaze to his dad's journal that he was leafing through and fought a smile. "What is it that could make different bugs attack?"

"Well, hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations," Sam suggested, but Dean knew it wasn't a spirit.

"Yeah, but I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity," Sam pursed his lips at Dean's words, but he had to agree with him.

"Yeah, me neither," He kept his eyes on the road as he talked, knowing Dean would yell at him if he didn't.

"Maybe they're being controlled somehow, you know, by something or someone," Dean offered, looking up from the journal and at Sam.

"You mean like 'Willard'?" Sam asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, bugs instead of rats," He glanced into the rearview again to see Mel still sleeping. He kept expecting her to suddenly wake up and jump in with the perfect answer, but she just kept sleeping.

"There are cases of psychic connections between people and animals, elementals, telepaths," Sam mulled it over.

"Yeah, the whole Timmy/Lassie thing," Dean added, grinning. "Larry's kid," He suddenly realized, his eyes widening, "Bugs for pets,"

"Matt?" Sam echoed dubiously.

"Yeah," Dean nodded as Sam shrugged, thinking it through.

"He did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula," Sam remembered.

"Think he's our 'Willard'?" Dean questioned, feeling good about the lead.

"I don't know. Anything's possible, I guess," They drove in silence for a few moments before Dean couldn't take it any more.

"Sam, whatever Dad did, he had his reasons," Sam let out an annoyed huff at the mention of his father.

"I know, but still, the way we were raised…" Sam just shook his head, frowning deeply.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad," Dean tried to play off, but Sam just glanced at him and then in the mirror at Mel before returning his eyes to the road.

"For you maybe," He muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean countered, growing defensive.

"You were his perfect son," Sam laughed bitterly. "And Mel… well, she had her own dad who protected her,"

"He was trying to teach us how to survive, and Mel had arguments with him too" Dean argued, keeping his voice low so they didn't wake her.

"Yeah? Well, you protected her," Sam grumbled, and Dean looked at him in surprise.

"What?" Was all he could get out before something caught his eye out the window "Hey, pull over here," They pulled into the driveway, and Sam shifted the gear into park. Dean got out, slamming the door behind him, tossing frequent looks back at Sam, thinking about what he'd just said.

"What're we doin' here?" Mel's tired, confused voice mumbled from the back seat as she sat up.

"It's too late to talk to anybody else," He reached down and opened the garage door.

"We're going to squat in an empty house?" Sam asked incredulously as Dean looked past him at Mel.

"I want to try the steam shower," Lust closed her throat, and all of a sudden, she was _very_ awake.

"I agree, we should stay here," Sam groaned half in disgust half in annoyance at Mel's words.

"Maybe I'll just sleep in the car for the night," Sam muttered.

"Come on!" Dean ordered, gesturing through the garage door. Sam pulled the car into the garage before parking it, and Dean shut the door behind him.

-1st POV-

"You two ever coming out of there?" Sam's muffled yell was followed by several angry knocks. I was breathing heavily, my body was pressed against the wall as Dean hungrily kissed my neck. I tilted my head back and tried desperately to hold in a moan of pleasure. There was another loud knock.

"If we ignore him he'll go away," Dean mumbled, resting his forehead against mine. In response, I kissed him harshly, flipping us so he was against the wall. I heard his breathing grow even more ragged as I began trailing kissed down his neck, running my hands over his wet abs. I could feel his heart pounding through in his chest beneath my fingers.

"Guys, come on!" Another loud bang from the door. With a massive effort, I stopped myself, pulling back a bit and making the mistake of looking up at Dean. We locked eyes, his dark with desire.

"It's not that important," I barely had time to nod before Dean's lips were locked with mine, and we stumbled back, my hands fisting in his short, damp hair.

"A police call came in on the scanner," I pulled back from him, placing a trembling hand on his chest and resting my head on his shoulder. That was important. Damn it. Dean groaned in protest but reached around me to turn off the water.

"Hold on," He shouted to Sam, handing me a towel. We were both struggling to regain our breath as I wrapped the towel around me, staying close to the wall so Sam wouldn't be able to see me when Dean opened the door. "Someone was found dead three blocks from here. Come on," Dean wrapped a smaller towel around his head in an urban-looking do. I couldn't help but laugh breathlessly as he opened the door.

"This shower is awesome," Dean grinned, still breathless. I could barely see him through the thick steam even though I was only a few feet away.

"Come on," Sam whined disgustedly, and I heard his footsteps turn the corner.

I changed into dark blue skinny jeans and a light grey tank top that I covered with a darker grey jacket that zipped to the side. I figured since it probably rained last night, it would be chilly and foggy today. For the most part, I was right, but it was drizzly and chilly not foggy. We turned the corner in the Impala just as a body was being loaded into a trunk of a police car by the coroner. Sam parked the car behind another police car, and I got out, getting under Dean's black umbrella to save my cute leather jacket.

"Okay, look, I don't know anything more right now. I'll have to call you back. All right," We walked up to Larry, who was talking on the phone with someone but quickly shut it as we approached. "Hello," He greeted, attempting a smile, "You're back early,"

"Yeah, we just drove in wanted to take another look at the neighborhood," Dean told him, looking around.

"What's going on?" Sam asked curiously, and Larry looked back at the body being loaded into the trunk.

"You guys met Linda Bloom at the barbecue?" Larry reminded us sadly.

"The realtor," I remembered, frowning at him. "Did something happen?"

"Well, she, uh, passed away last night," I let the confusion slip off my face and looked at him with shock.

"What happened?" Dean asked in horror.

"I'm still trying to find out," Larry admitted. "I identified the body for the police," He looked back at the man who was waving him over. "I'm sorry. This isn't a good time,"

"It's okay," I reassured him as he took a step back, towards the house.

"Excuse me," He took off towards the porch where he began talking to an officer.

"You know what we have to do, right?" Dean phrased it like a question, but we all knew the answer.

"We got to get in that house," Sam answered him.

"See if there's a bug problem," I added as Dean turned back to the house.

Twenty minutes later I was standing beside the wooden fence that ran alongside the house, watching a cop car pass by. I turned nodding to Sam and Dean as soon as it was clear. Dean grabbed the top of the fence and pulled himself up with ease, and Sam and I followed. I balanced on the top of the fence for a moment before jumping to the house, nearly slipping down the side but catching myself. I slipped through the window after Dean and Sammy followed, sliding it shut behind him.

"This looks like the place," Dean said unnecessarily as we stared at the black tape in the outline of a body. Dean moved into the bathroom, shaking out a small towel to reveal a couple dead spiders. "Spiders. From spider boy?"

"Matt," Sam corrected stiffly. "Maybe,"

"I'm sorry, what?" I was completely lost here. "You two think Matt's behind the killings?"

"Yeah," Dean straightened from where he was crouched. "We think he might be a psychic to animals,"

"Like 'Willard'?" I asked dubiously, and Dean and Sammy both grinned as if I'd said something incredibly funny. "What?"

"Nothing, and yeah, like 'Willard' except with bugs not rats," Sam filled me in, and I shook my head.

"That boy isn't a sociopath," I would've felt it, but I didn't say that. How much longer would I be able to keep this secret from Sam? He frowned at me but didn't say anything.

"You don't know, he could be," Sam countered, and there was nothing I could say to that.

"Fine, let's check him out," I relented, still feeling as though he were more of a victim than anyone. We crept back out the window and down the fence before riding to the school bus stop that was in front of Oasis Plains. "I feel like a pedophile," I complained, glancing out the windshield at the school bus that was pulling up. Dean and Sam snickered at that, and I hit Dean in the shoulder. "Hey, where's he going?" I noticed he was walking the opposite direction.

"Isn't his house that way?" Dean wondered.

"Yep," Sam confirmed from the back, and we got out, following the boy. I swallowed hard as we saw Matt with a huge preying mantis on his wrist. There wasn't a lot of things I was truly scared of. Well, actually, there was only two things that I was really, truly scared of. That being said, I didn't like bugs much. I wasn't scared of them, but they grossed me out. I remained an okay distance away by Dean's side, "Hey, Matt," Matt looked up at us in surprise as Sam announced us. "Remember me?"

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, glancing between the three of us suspiciously.

"We just need to talk to you," I informed him in the most non-creepy way I could.

"You're not here to buy a house, are you?" He figured, turning back to Sam before his face went ashen, and he took a step back "Wait, you're not serial killers?" I let out a small laugh at that.

"No, no. No, I think you're safe," Sam reassured him.

"So, Matt," Dean began with a grin, "You sure know a lot about insects,"

"So?" He shrugged, studying the mantis on his wrist.

"Did you hear what happened to Linda, the realtor?" Dean questioned.

"I hear she died this morning," The boy looked genuinely sad.

"Mm, that's right," Dean informed him before dropping his voice into a whisper. "Spider bites," The boy looked down, swallowed, and then looked back up at Sam.

"Matt, you tried to scare her with a spider," Sam told him, and Matt's eyes widened with surprise.

"Wait," He held up a finger, "You think I had something to do with that?"

"You tell us," I told him, shrugging, but still sticking to my feeling that the boy was innocent.

"That tarantula was a joke," He protested, "Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas-company guy," I frowned, paying closer attention. He might not be the one causing it, but maybe he did have some sort of connection to the insects.

"What do you know about those?" I questioned him, more interested now.

"There is something going on here. I don't know what, but something's happening with the insects," He spoke with conviction, putting down the mantis, and swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Let me show you something," He told us, walking past us and leaving us to follow.

"So, if you knew about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad?" Sam asked him. "Maybe he could clear everybody out,"

"Believe me, I've tried, but Larry doesn't listen to me," He calls his dad by his first name, which means they aren't on good terms. That and the bitter undertone in his voice was a dead giveaway.

"Why not?" Sam inquired even though I think we both knew the answer.

"Mostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son," I glanced at Dean quickly to see him processing the words.

"I hear ya," Sam sympathized with him, and I bit the inside of my cheek again.

"You do?" Dean echoed in surprise, making Sam turn to look back at us.

"Matt, how old are you?" Sam questioned him.

"Sixteen," He answered with a glance back.

"Well, don't sweat it cause in two year something great's gonna happen," Sam told him, and I glared at the back of his head.

"What?" Matt asked dubiously.

"College. You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad," Sam tried to comfort him with an underlying bitterness in his voice.

"What kind of advice is that?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light and the anger out of it.

"A kid should stick with his family," Dean added, and Sam turned back to glare at Dean while I glared at him.

"How much farther, Matt?" Sam turned away from us.

"We're almost there," Matt answered, glancing from Sam to Dean to me uncertainly. He led us for a few more minutes before we stopped in a clearing. "I've been keeping track of the insect population. It's part of an AP science class,"

"You two are like peas in a pod," Dean muttered, his eyes flicking from Matt to Sam.

"What's been happening?" He asked.

"A lot," Matt told us. "I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles - you name it. It's like they're congregating here," Matt explained.

"Why?" I questioned curiously.

"I don't know," He admitted, shrugging, but looking around the clearing.

"What's that?" Sam asked pointing to a big mound of dirt near the middle of the clearing. Matt shrugged, and Dean pushed past them to find out. I followed with Sam and Matt, coming up by Dean's side as he knelt by the mass of earthworms that were wriggling in the dirt. I swallowed my disgust and suppressed the urge to take a step back. Dean took a stick that had been lying beside him and poked around in the hole that he'd made. It hit something that made a hard thunking sound.

"There's something down there," He announced, looking up at Sam and me. I swallowed again. "Oh, man," Dean stuck his hand into the hold, feeling around as he grunted with effort, trying to lift the thing. "Come on, come on," He succeeded in pulling up the thing. It was a skull. There were three more.

* * *

Sam opened the door to the backseat and shrugged off his jacket while I waited on the other side of the car with Dean. He covered the box that contained the skulls before lifting it out of the car and joining us.

"So, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave," Sam mused aloud.

"Yeah, maybe this is a haunting," Dean offered, "some pissed off spirits - some unfinished business,"

"Or a curse," I suggested, the words seeming to fly out of my mouth before I'd processed them. The two boys looked at me, and I shrugged thoughtfully. "It makes sense. The bugs - nature - attacking people who are trying to sell the land,"

"All right, but the question is why bugs and why now?" Sam got to the point, and I agreed.

"That's two questions," Dean told him, and I bit back a grin. "So, with that kid back there, how could you tell him to just ditch his family like that?" Dean asked.

"Just, uh, I know what the kid's going through," I'd talk to Sam later about that. Truth be told I wasn't so happy with him either. I don't care what kind of crap you've been through, and Lord knows, Sam's been through a lot of crap, but you don't unload on a kid like that.

"How about telling him to respect his old man? How's that for advice?" Dean snapped at him, getting angry.

"Dean, come on," Sam grabbed his arm and stopped, facing him. "This isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about," I hesitated before deciding to stay. The last thing we needed was for them to get into it right here. Dean glanced away from Sam, and his eyes caught mine. I gave him a meaningful look. The one that said 'we are working a case - save it for later'.

"Forget it, sorry I brought it up," Dean turned away from Sam, starting towards the building.

"I respected him, but no matter what I did, it was never good enough," Sam's face twisted into a resentful look.

"So, what are you saying, that Dad was disappointed in you?" Dean's voice was flat when he talked as if he was suddenly very, very tired.

"Was? Is… always has been," I turned to meet Sam's eyes in surprise.

"Why would you think that?" I'd promised myself I wouldn't get involved in this one, but I couldn't help the words escaping my lips.

"Because, Mel, I didn't want to bow hunt or hustle pool. Because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which in our whacked-out family made me the freak," Sam vented.

"Yeah, you were kind of like the blond chick in 'The Munsters'," Dean joked, and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach as I watched the two.

"Dean, you know what most dad's are when their kids score a full ride? Proud. Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house,"

"I remember that fight," Dean remembered, and I swallowed hard, remembering that day. "In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth," Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

"You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad, I don't know if he's even gonna want to see me," I frowned at Sam's words.

"Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. Never." Dean told him truthfully.

"He was scared," I finally spoke up again, knowing Dean would never say those words. Sam's eyes snapped to my face and he furrowed his brow in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" He scoffed.

"She's right," Dean agreed, glancing at me before returning his eyes to Sam. "He was afraid of what could have happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talking, he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could, keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe,"

"What?" Sam asked in shock.

"Yeah," Dean confirmed with that same tired voice.

"Why didn't he tell me any of that?" Sam demanded.

"That's a two way street, dude. You could've picked up the phone," There was a moment of silence where Sam mulled over Dean's words.

"We'd better go," I finally cut in to the silence. "We're gonna be late for our appointment," We walked in and set the box down on the professor's desk to have him examine them.

"So, you three are students?" He scrutinized us as he carried the box.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're in your class," Sam prompted him.

"Anthro 101," I added helpfully.

"Oh, yeah," The professor spoke as if he remembered.

"So, what about the bones, professor?" Dean asked him.

"This is quite an interesting find you've made. I'd say they're 170 years old, give or take. The time frame and the geography heavily suggest native american,"

"Were there any tribes or reservations on that land?" Sam inquired, and the professor thought for a moment.

"Not according to the historical record, but, uh… relocation of native peoples was quite common at that time,"

"Right," I spoke confidently, "But are there any local legends? You know, stories about the area?" The professor rubbed his chin thoughtfully, glancing at me.

"Well, you know, there's a Euchee tribe in Sapulpa. It's about sixty miles from here," He shrugged, "Someone out there might know the truth,"

Forty-five minutes later we were pulling into the grounds in Sapulpa. Dean leaned out the window to ask a guy where he could find the elder of the tribe. We were pointed a short ways up the road, and Dean parked in front of what looked like a diner. We entered the diner and looked around, spotting the man with the grey hair in a booth near the entrance.

"Joe Whitetree?" Sam asked him. The man didn't answer but instead just nodded with a slight frown. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right,"

"We're students from the university," Dean told him, grinning winningly.

"No, you're not. You're lying," The man called him out without so much as blinking.

"Um… well, the truth is-" Dean began.

"You know who starts sentence with 'truth is'? Liars," The man interrupted him in a throaty voice, continuing his card game.

"Have you heard of a place called Oasis Plains?" I figured he'd answer the questions as long as we didn't lie to him. "It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley," The man looked up at Dean.

"I like them. They're not liars," Dean looked away in annoyance. "I know the area,"

"What can you tell us about the history there?" Sam inquired.

"Why do you want to know?" He questioned us, frowning again.

"Something bad is happening in Oasis Plains," Sam started.

"We think it might have a connection to these old bones we found down there," I added.

"Native American bones," Sam prompted.

"I'll tell you what my grandfather told me, what his grandfather told him. 200 years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the american calvary came to relocate them. They were resistant… cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it, on a night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals, the calvary first raided our village. They murdered, raped," I glanced away and back again, unable to hold his gaze for too long. "The next day, the calvary came again, and the next and the next, and on the sixth night the calvary came one last time, and by the time the sun rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was dead. They say on the sixth night, as the chief of the village lay dying, he whispered to the heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up, and protect the valley, and it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white men as the calvary brought upon his people,"

"You were right," Dean fixed me with his green eyes, "Insects. Sounds like nature to me. Six days?"

"And on the night of the sixth day, none would survive," The man finished ominously. We turned and headed out the door without bothering the man anymore.

"When did the gas-company man die again?" I asked, a tug in my gut telling me this was not good.

"Uh, let's see, we got here Tuesday, so Friday the 20th," Dean replied.

"March 20th," I reiterated, glancing at Sam.

"That's the Spring Equinox," Sam caught on.

"The night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals," Dean pieced together, and Sam let out a half laugh.

"So every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger," Sam summed up.

"Larry built his neighborhood on cursed land." I muttered, trying not to be too frustrated. He didn't know. I suddenly stopped short, a sudden thought coming to me. The boys walked a couple more steps before turning, realizing I wasn't with them anymore. "The sixth night,"

"That's tonight," Dean realized, his eyes widening. I walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door.

"If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise," Sam told us, for once not arguing about being in the back. I bit my lip at Sam's next words. "So, how do we break a curse?" I exchanged a pained glance with Dean.

"You don't break a curse," He told Sam, "You get out of it's way. We got to get those people out now,"

By the time we were even close to Oasis Plains, it was dark already. I snatched Dean's phone from the seat and flipped it open, quickly dialing the number Larry had given me the previous day.

"Hello?" A man's voice answered.

"Hello. Is this Mr. Larry Pike?" I questioned in an grave voice.

"Yes, who is this?" He asked.

"Mrs. Swann from the Oklahoma Gas and Power," I maintained my somber tone as I spoke, trying not to rush my words despite the urgency. "I'm calling to inform you there's a main-line gas leak in your area,"

"God, really? And how big?" Larry asked.

"Well, I wouldn't want to alarm you, it's nothing we can't take care of. However, we do need you and your family to evacuate for the night. We are sorry for any inconvenience, but your safety is our first priority,"

"And who is this again?" I bit my lip uncertainly at his doubtful tone.

"Charlotte Swann from Oklahoma Gas and Power. I'm the CEO of the company," I informed him.

"Uh-huh, well, see the problem is I know the Oklahoma Gas and Power company. The CEO is Mitchell Westfield, so who is this?" I hesitated before snapping the phone shut with a sigh of frustration. Sam grabbed the phone from my fingers, and flipped it up, dialing quickly.

_Hello?_ A boy's voice answered on the other line, and I glanced back at Sam incredulously. When did he get the kid's number?

"Matt, it's Sam," He spoke hurriedly with urgency.

_Sam my backyard is crawling with cockroaches. _Matt sounded scared.

"Matt, just listen. You need to get your family out of the house right now, okay?" Sam ordered him, leaving no room for arguing.

_What? Why?_

"Because something's coming," Sam replied shortly.

_More bugs._

"Yeah, a lot more,"

_My dad doesn't listen in the best of circumstances. What am I supposed to tell him?_ Matt asked, panicked.

"You got to make him listen, okay?" Sam demanded.

"Give me the phone," Dean snapped, holding out his hand into the back. We swerved, and Sam handed him the phone. "Matt, under no circumstances are you to tell him the truth. He'll just think you're nuts,"

_But he's my-_ Matt began, terrified, only to have Dean interrupt him.

"Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side," He commanded, ignoring the kid's fearful protest. "And you got to go to the hospital, okay?"

_Yeah, yeah, okay. _Matt agreed determinedly before hanging up the phone.

"'Make him listen'," Dean scoffed, glancing back at Sam, "What were you thinking?" For once, I had no problem with Dean's speeding. Five minutes later, we were pulling up in front of the Pike's house. "Damn there still here. Come on," I got out of the car, meeting Larry's eyes through the window as he pulled back the curtain.

"Get off my property before I call the cops!" Larry yelled at us, pointing an accusing finger.

"Mr. Pike-" I began in a calm tone.

"Dad, they're just trying to help," Matt tried to come to our aid, but his dad turned on him.

"Get in the house!" His dad hollered at him.

"Sorry," Matt ignored his dad and looked at us instead. "I told him the truth," I closed my eyes in defeat. Damn it.

"We had a plan, Matt. What happened to the plan?" Dean chastised him.

"Look, it's twelve AM. They are coming any minute now," Sam tried to reason with Larry.

"He's right. You need to worry about your family. Get them and go before they come," I pleaded with him.

"Oh, yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm," Sarcasm lined Larry's voice as he sneered at us.

"What do you really think happened to that realtor, huh?" Dean spoke with dead seriousness in his voice. "And the gas-company guy? You don't think something weird's going on around here?" Larry's eyes flicked to Sam and then to me, and I could see his confidence was wavering.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you're crazy," Larry had made his choice, and his eyes darkened with anger. "You come near my boy or my family again, we're gonna have a problem,"

"Well, I hate to be the downer but we got a problem right now," Dean replied with urgency.

"Dad, they're right. Okay, we're in danger," Matt cut in, begging his father to change his mind.

"Matt, get inside now!" Larry turned on his son.

"No!" Matt yelled back. "Why won't you listen to me?" I watched the exchange warily, glancing over my shoulder at the surrounding trees uncertainly. That's when I heard them. The buzzing.

"Because this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!" I grabbed Dean's arm tightly and nodded towards the trees as Sam yelled back at Larry.

"Look, this land is cursed! People have died here. Now are you really gonna take that risk with your family?"

"Guys," I interrupted their argument, earning silence from everyone as they looked at me. "Do you hear that?" I got blank looks until a second later when a quiet buzzing filled the air like a million tiny wings. The buzzing was intensifying by the second, and I turned to look up at Dean. "We have to get them out of here,"

"What the hell?" Larry asked softly, his face twisting in confusion. The lantern on Larry's porch crackled as bug after bug flew into it.

"It's time to go. Larry, get your wife," Dean ordered. "Sam-"

"Wait," I stopped both brothers at the same time Matt spoke in a weak voice, "Guys?" A hoard of winged insects were coming up from the trees, forming a dark cloud that loomed over the forest forebodingly.

"Oh, my god," Larry muttered in horror and fear.

"We'll never make it," Sam spoke lowly to us, and it was clear he was trying his best to remain calm.

"Everybody in the house. Everybody in the house. Let's go!" I quickly ascended the steps, grabbing Matt, who seemed to be frozen in place, and pushing him in front of me. Dean shut the door behind him, locking it securely, and I faced Larry.

"There's no one else in the neighborhood, right? Just you," I checked, hoping beyond hope that I was right.

"Yes, it's just us," My eyes shut for a moment in slight relief before snapping open again.

"Honey, what's happening?" Joanie came out of the kitchen to stand beside her husband. "What's that noise?" She questioned, a tinge of fear coming into her voice as the buzzing grew louder and angrier.

"Call 9-1-1," Larry instructed his wife, who just stood their in shock. "Joanie!" He snapped, causing her to snap out of her trance. My eyes fell to the floor where they fixed on the opening beneath the door. Bugs would be able to get in from anywhere.

"I need towels!" Dean grabbed Larry's shoulder and shook him a bit. Larry rushed off into another room.

"We need to lock this place up," Sam pulled Matt with him. "Come on, doors, windows, the fireplace, everything,"

"You and Matt get the living room," I yelled at Sam as I raced into the kitchen. "Dean and Larry will get upstairs," I snatched the phone out of Joanie's hands and hung it up. "The police can't help us now," I told her, opening and closing her drawers, pulling out anything that could be of help. "Where do you keep the dishtowels?" I grew frustrated and turned to her to see her holding a cleaver. "That won't be of use either, you'll just end up hurting someone," I took the knife from her and returned it to its place before grabbing her shoulders. "Joanie, you and your family will be fine, all right? I promise. But you have to help me, all right? You have to help me protect your family," She nodded, renewed determination in her eyes, and I released her shoulders.

"What do you need me to do?" She asked.

"Where do you keep the dishtowels?" She rushed to a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen and began pulling down dishtowels. She picked up the phone again and before I could do anything, she set it down again, looking at me with panic. "The phones are dead!"

"They chewed through the phone lines," Dean explained as he hurried through the kitchen with towels. I closed the windows and locked them, making sure there was no way for anything to get in. The lights shut off. "And the power lines,"

"Maybe my cell," Larry offered, diving for his phone, "No signal,"

"You won't get one. There covering the house," I responded, grabbing a towel from Dean and doing the backdoor as well before returning to them. The windows were being pelted by black bugs of all different size and shape.

"So what do we do now?" Larry questioned, breathing quickly as he tried to process what was happening.

"We try to outlast it," Sam replied, "Hopefully the curse will end at sunrise,"

"Hopefully?" Larry echoed in fear as Dean walked into the kitchen, and came back a moment later carrying two cans of bug spray.

"Bug spray?" Joanie sounded incredulous. Dean handed one can to me.

"Trust me," There was a loud creaking, and my head snapped up, my eyes zeroing in on the fireplace.

"What's that?" Joanie turned to look at the living room in terror. Adrenaline was making my hearing even sharper, and I could hear each individual buzzing sound coming from millions of different insects. Sam and Dean approached the fireplace while I stood rooted to my spot, entranced by the sound.

"The flue," Sam realized. The bugs were about to come in through the fireplace, and I forced myself to snap out of it.

"Everybody needs to get upstairs," I spoke quietly but urgently, pulling Matt towards me and then pushing him up the stairs before doing the same to Joanie. There was the splintering of wood, and dark shapes, moving too fast to see, shot out of the fireplace. I covered my face as I heard Larry's family start screaming in fear and horror.

"Get up the stairs! Now!" I focused on Dean's voice and pressed the bottle of bug spray. Fire came spurting out, disintegrating the bugs nearest it. My eyes locked on the stairs, and I followed Larry, using the bug spray to ward off the insects.

"Go! Go, go, go!" I heard Sam's voice leading us as we ran up the stairs. I heard the crash of the ladder coming down; we were headed towards the attic. "Go, Joanie," The spray bottle killed more of the bugs. "Come on!" I grabbed the bottle tightly and climbed as fast as I could, knowing Dean was behind me. Sam grabbed my arm as I neared the top and helped me out, and I crouched beside him, spraying the bugs that got up. Dean was up a couple seconds later, and we torched the bugs as Sam hauled up the latter and closed the attic.

"Oh, god. What's that?" I don't know how long we'd been up here but it must've been at least an hour. The bugs were still trying to find a way in, which means the sun hadn't risen yet, and, by the feel of my can, I was almost out of bug spray. The Pikes were all in a corner of the attic, huddled together, and Joanie was pointing to the roof where a shower of sawdust was falling from a slight hole.

"Something's eating through the wood," Dean realized, and my heart sunk.

"Termites," I told him. What else could it be?

"Okay, everybody get back," Dean ordered, gesturing his hand at them as they retreated farther into the corner. The wood broke, and I barely had time to get the bottle up to protect my face when I was attacked by a swarm of bugs.

"Sam!" I cried to get his attention, pointing to the piece of metal that was by his foot. He picked up the metal thing and pressed it to the hole, and Dean held it there with a beam, bracing it against the door. I worked on getting rid of the remaining bugs, but, unfortunately, there was another splintering of wood and another hole opened up. The fire abruptly cut out, and I ran back the family. Distantly, I saw a flame cut out in the middle of the swarm and knew Dean's was empty as well. I heard the clink of the bottle hit the ground, and a moment later the metal sheet that Sam had put up fell and the hole grew twice as big.

Next thing I knew, Dean's body was covering mine, and he propped his jacket up to cover a little bit of Matt as well. The noise pounded on my eardrums as if I was at in a mosh pit at a concert right next to the speakers. Joanie's screaming, the buzzing, everyone's terrified heartbeats going a mile a minute, their shaky breathing. Suddenly, the attic was flooded with light, and the bugs began to diminish. Slowly, Dean lowered his jacket and stood, and I followed, looking out from the hole in the roof at the sunrise in immense relief.

* * *

After much, _much_ convincing, I'd persuaded Dean and Sam to stop by the Pikes' house before we left to say goodbye to them. Sam and Dean hated goodbyes, which was ironic considering how much we had to give them. We pulled up in front of the house, and, as expected, a moving van was in front loading furniture into it.

"What?" Dean questioned, feigning hurt as he got out of the Impala. "No goodbye?" I walked around the hood to join him and Sam in walking towards Larry.

"Good timing," Larry commented. "Another hour and we'd have been gone," He shook Sam's hand, smiling at us with a look of gratitude.

"For good?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah," He confessed, "The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found, but I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again." I smiled at his determination.

"You don't seem to upset about it," Sam noticed.

"Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, but, somehow," He looked back at his son, who was carrying some boxes out of the house and smiled. "I don't really care," Sam nodded, smiling and looked back at the kid before deciding to walk over to him.

"So, where are you planning on going next?" I asked, turning away from where Sam was talking to Matt.

"Oh, I don't know," Larry shrugged but looked happier than I'd seen him this entire hunt. "We're going to live a couple neighborhoods over until we figure out what we're going to do," I nodded, and there was a moment of silence.

"Can I help you with those," Dean took a couple boxes and lifted them onto the truck.

"Thanks," Larry shook hands with Dean and then with me before going over to his boy as Dean and I walked back over to the car and leaned on the side of the hood. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned on his chest as we watched Larry and Matt talk. Sam came over to us and leaned on the hood beside me.

"I want to find Dad," His voice was raw with emotion as he spoke the words.

"Yeah, me too," Dean replied, and I covered his hand with mine, lacing our fingers together.

"Yeah, but I just… I want to apologize to him," I glanced at Sam in surprise.

"For what?" I questioned, although I think I already knew the answer.

"All the things I said too him," Sam told us. "He was just doing the best he could,"

"Well, don't worry we'll find him, and you'll apologize, and within five minutes you guys will be at each others throats," Both Sam and I laughed a bit at the truth behind those words.

"Yeah, probably," Sam admitted.

"Definitely," I corrected him, earning another laugh.

"Let's hit the road," Sam straightened, heading around the car.

"Yeah," I agreed, and I slid into the back of the car, stretching my legs out across the seats. Dean revved the engine, and we were off again, another town disappearing in the rearview mirror.


	9. Home

****Hey, just an FYI I did it like it was present day, so 2005 is what's happening currently! You'll see. Anyways I wanted to know if there was any specific flashbacks that people wanted to see in the coming chapters. I already have some ideas, but I'd love everyone's input! Thank you so much! And review with the age you want Mel to be or a memory that has already been mentioned that you want to see! Thanks again!****

_Home_

I was woken suddenly by sharp panting to my left and turned my head to see Sam sitting bolt upright in his bed, sweating slightly and breathing hard. I slipped out of Dean's arms and threw my legs over the bed, rising silently so as to not wake Dean. Without even having to ask, I crossed the room to grab my jacket and slipped it on over my tank top, throwing Sam's to him. Sam looked at me questioningly but didn't argue as he put on his jacket, and I fished the keys out of Dean's jeans, which were lying on the floor of the bathroom.

"I can drive," Sam offered as we approached the car, and I shot him a look.

"Nice try, Sammy," I slammed the driver's door shut behind me and relaxed in the leather seat. "I haven't driven in so long I may have actually forgotten how," Sam laughed beside me as he shut his door.

"You knew how to drive?" He sassed me, and I gave him another look, shoving him before putting the gear in reverse.

"Shut up, Sammy. Did you forget who taught you how to drive?" I pulled out, and we were on speeding down the road in seconds, looking for the nearest coffee shop.

"Yeah, Dad had your head for that," Sam remembered, laughing a bit still.

"Well I didn't expect you to crash into a tree!" I couldn't help but join in his laughter. A moment of silence followed as we were both caught up in the memory,

"Hey, there's a place," Sam pointed to Josh's Cafe on my right. I pulled in without a second's thought and parked the car right in front. We got in and sat down at a circular table, ordering three cups of coffee to go.

"You had another dream?" I questioned, knowing we had to have the conversation sooner or later and concerned for Sam. He sighed, looking down at his hands before meeting my eyes.

"Yeah," He shook his head in answer to my unasked question. "I don't remember much,"

"Did you try drawing what you do remember?" I asked, and his brown eyes gained a curious and thoughtful glint to them. He asked the waiter for a pen and began drawing on the napkin that was in front of him.

"Here," After about a minute he turned the paper over to show me the tree that he'd drawn. I frowned as there was a distant tug at the back of my brain; something about that tree looked familiar. "Recognize it?"

"I don't know. It seems familiar somehow," Before I could say anymore, our waiter came and handed us the coffee, and Sam paid him. We left the cafe, and I still refused to let Sam drive. I opened my mouth to tell him about my hearing and then closed it again. I glanced at Sam, who was studying his napkin intently, frowning in thought, before I looked back at the road. I pulled back into the parking lot and got out, holding Dean's cup as I drank from my own. We'd get a real breakfast on the way to whatever town the next hunt was in.

"Where'd you two go?" I tossed the keys to Dean, who was sitting on the chair by the table, before handing his coffee to him and giving him a quick kiss.

"Missed you two," I greeted him with a smile which he returned.

"All right," Dean took a sip of his coffee as I leaned over his shoulder to see the screen. "I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig," I turned the laptop to face me, and Dean.

"Oh," I pointed to the third one. "Three people found vanished from a gas station. That could be our kind of thing," I glanced at Sam to see him sketching intensely on a notepad. Probably that same tree again. I frowned, trying to think back to why it looked so familiar.

"There's some cow mutilations in west texas," Dean tried to get his attention with no success. "Hey!" He finally snapped, causing Sam's head to snap up to look at us, his eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. "Are we boring you with this hunting evil stuff,"

"No," Sam shook his head, turning back to his drawing. "I'm listening. Keep going," Dean glanced back at me, and I shrugged.

"Hey, in Sacramento a man shot himself in the head. Three times," I tried, glancing back at Sam as Dean waved three fingers at him.

"Any of these things blowing up your skirt, pal?" All at once, it hit me so hard I actually staggered back. I crossed the room in two steps to snatch the sketch out of Sam's hands, ignoring his protests.

"I knew this looked familiar," I set it on the bed and rummaged through Dean's bag until I found what I was looking for. John's journal. I took it out and flipped it open, searching through the three photos he kept there for only half a moment before slipping out the old, crumpled picture that John always kept. It was him, Dean, Sam, and Mary all smiling at the camera standing in front of the house. Sam's tree was in the background. I felt Dean lean over beside me, slipping an easy arm around my waist as he studied the two trees side by side before looking up at Sam, who was on my other side.

"They're the same. That's where we have to go next," Sam realized, and my face fell as I realized what that would mean.

"What?"Dean questioned, uneasiness lining his voice as he took a step back warily.

"Back home. Back to Kansas," Dean scoffed in response to Sam's words.

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?" Dean was trying to keep his cool. I sat down heavily on the bed, letting everything sink in.

"This photo was taken in front of our old house right?" Sam took the photograph that had been next to me off the bed and waved it around. "The house where mom died?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, taking the picture from Sam.

"It didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely. They rebuilt it, right?" Sam grew breathless with excitement as he explained his theory quickly to Dean and I.

"I guess so, yeah," Dean's eyes flicked to me, but I couldn't help him, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy," Sam told him, sitting on the bed opposite me, "But the people who live in our old house, I think they might be in danger,"

"Why would you think that?" Sam hesitated, his eyes finding mine uncertainly. Dean glanced from me to Sam, frowning.

"Uh, just, um. Look, just - you got to trust me on this, okay?" Sam got up and went over to the duffel bags, starting to pack without waiting for Dean or my approval.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa trust you?" Dean echoed incredulously, and I stood.

"Dean…" Dean glanced at me as the words died on my lips; I really didn't know what to say. I was torn between loyalty to Sam and loyalty to Dean.

"Come on, that's weak. You got to give me a little bit more than that," I threw my duffel bag onto the bed and opened the drawer, tossing my stuff in.

"Sam," I cut off whatever Sam was beginning to say. "He deserves to know,"

"What… what the hell is going on?" Dean snapped, growing irritated, and Sam sighed in defeat.

"I have these nightmares," Sam started before hesitating.

"I've noticed," Dean said, prompting him to continue.

"And sometimes they come true," Dean's mouth worked as he tried to process what he just heard.

"Come again?" Was what he finally settled on.

"Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica's death for days before it happened," Sam elaborated, and Dean shrugged, trying to look unconcerned but both I and Sam knew it was an act.

"Sane people have weird dreams. I'm sure it's just a coincidence," Dean sat on the bed across from mine.

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything because I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started. This has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know," Dean spoke softly, and I could feel his eyes but I couldn't bring myself to meet them.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed mom and Jessica. Tell him, Mel," Sam looked over at me when he spoke those last words.

"You knew about this?" I forced myself to meet his accusing eyes.

"Dean, I didn't-" I started, but my guilty voice might as well have been a confession.

"Perfect," He interrupted me, standing abruptly, and I stood as well.

"Dean-" Sam started.

"All right!" He snapped. "Just slow down, would you?" He turned away for a moment, running a hand through his hair roughly. "I mean," He turned back to us, and he looked so vulnerable and lost that my heart ached. "First you're telling me that my brother's got the shining…" My lips couldn't help but twitch at that, "and that my girlfriends knew all along…" I frowned at that, taking a step forward only to hesitate. "… and then you tell me that I've got to go back home, especially when…" He didn't finish, but I knew what he was thinking about.

"When what?" Dean had never told Sam; he'd only told me. It had been so long ago that I'd almost forgot.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there," Dean's voice was heavy with emotion, and he turned away from us again, leaning on the table.

"Dean," I spoke softly, "A woman's life could be at stake here. We have to check it out," He looked back at me, and I met his eyes determinedly.

"I know we do," He replied, his voice still slightly hoarse. Sam took his duffel bag and hoisted it over his shoulder before turning back to look at us from the door.

"I'll be at the car," He shut the door behind him, knowing we needed a moment.

"How could you not tell me?" Dean asked me the question with an anger hidden just above the surface.

"Sam didn't want me to," I protested, trying to make it sound like a viable excuse.

"My brother is getting visions! You didn't think I needed to know that?" He snapped, and I realized we were only a foot away from each other now.

"I told you it was his secret!" My voice rose, and I couldn't help it.

"You didn't tell me my brother was friggin' Professor X!" He snarled back.

"What? That doesn't even-" I vaguely realized we were yelling now.

"If something's wrong with-"

"Nothing's _wrong_-"

"-Sam I want to know!"

"I didn't want you to leave!" I shoved his chest with both my hands, making him stumble backwards a few steps.

"What?" His voice was soft and hurt, as if I'd smacked him.

"You almost left," I took a step away from him as he reached out for me. "When I first told you, you almost left. How do I know you won't leave this time?"

"I'm not going to leave you," Dean took a step towards me, and rested his hands on my neck, running his thumbs over my cheeks and meeting my eyes with intense determination burning in his. "I…" My breath hitched as he hesitated for a moment. He'd said it before, back in high school, and I knew he did, but neither of us had said it yet. "I'll always protect you, remember?" He lowered his lips, and I tilted my head up, meeting him halfway. The kiss was slow and sweet, and I tried to convey how much I needed him, how much I loved him, all with one kiss. I broke away, slowly opening my eyes and noticed him smiling down at me.

"What?" I asked the question breathlessly. He just laughed, equally breathless and shook his head. I gave him another quick kiss before going to my duffel and zipping it. When I looked back at Dean, he was packing his duffel bag quickly, his jaw tightening like it did whenever he was apprehensive or angry. Dean threw his duffel over his shoulder before taking mine, and I grabbed the keys to the room, going to check out while Dean put the stuff in the car. Check out took all of two minutes, and I was in the car with Sam and Dean in no time, heading towards the only place I'd ever called home.

* * *

**Austin, Texas**

**2001**

"Mel, cover the north exit. Dean, get the west. When I start the fire I'm going to run out the south way, so I'll get that. Remember, there's two of them, and they're tricky suckers. Anything moves, kill it," John finished, and Dean and I exited the Impala, going around the building quietly.

"Be careful," Dean whispered as we got to the exit he was supposed to be guarding.

"Yeah…" I agreed, trailing off briefly as I realized I'd be able to hear him. Maybe. "You too," I finished him, shaking my head to rid myself of those thoughts. I had to be one hundred percent focused on this hunt right now. I couldn't afford to be distracted.

"Hey, what's up with you lately?" My eyes snapped to Dean, and I froze.

"N-nothing," I stuttered before mentally berating myself and gathering my wits, "Nothing, I'm fine,"

"I've been patient, but there's something wrong and you have to tell me," Dean grabbed my arm and spun me to face him again.

"Dean, I need to go. John'll set the fire any moment," I tried a weak attempt to make him let me go.

"Mel, I gotta know," The sincere worry in his eyes felt like a knife was slicing my heart in two. I tore my eyes from his, and opened my mouth to reply when there was a crackle from inside.

"He started the fire," Dean released me, frowning in confusion, but I didn't stop to explain. Instead, I bolted towards my exit without pausing to look back at Dean and ignoring him hiss my name. I cocked the pistol that was loaded with silver bullets and readied myself, my adrenaline already kicking in from my run. I tried desperately to block out Dean and his worried eyes and his voice and… him. I blinked harshly, forcing myself to focus on the hunt. Werewolves. Two of them. Save lives.

There was an agonized screech from inside the warehouse, and I swallowed hard, holding the gun at the ready. There were footsteps, and then another scream, but nothing came my way. I waited silently as the seconds ticked by at a painful pace. That's when I heard it. To my right there was a gun shot, and then the sounds of a struggle. There was a clatter of a gun falling to the floor, and then an unmistakable cry of pain and a sickening ripping sound. Dean. Without thinking, I sprinted back the way I'd come.

"Dean?" My heart stopped when I saw him with a woman towering over him, her raised hands clawed. I didn't realized I'd raised my pistol until a loud gunshot sounded. She tensed for a split second before slumping forward onto the grass beside Dean, who was groaning in pain. I dropped to my knees by his side, and my heart froze again as I realized his the side of his shirt was ripped and soaked in blood. I pulled it up, sucking in a horrified breath as I surveyed the damage.

"That bad?" Dean turned his head to look at me, only half joking. I shook my head hurriedly.

"No, you're going to be fine," I looked around desperately for John, but he wasn't in sight. I heard a gunshot to my left, and my head whipped around to scan the trees. Nothing. I turned back to Dean and took out the knife from my back pocket. "Just hang on, okay? Look at me," I cut off the remainders of his shirt and balled them up. "This is going to hurt, Dean," I warned him, holding down his shoulder before pressing the cloth on his wound. He let out a yell, arching his back, and I forced him back down.

"God damn it!" Dean let out a string of swears, grabbing my hand and crushing it in his grip.

"Mel! Dean!" My head whipped around to see a furious John coming running towards us. "What the hell happened?" He barked, kneeling beside his injured son. "Are you all right?" He checked with me briefly, and I nodded hurriedly, not tearing my eyes from Dean. "We need to get him to the car," I pushed Dean's two jackets off his shoulders, wincing at every one of his pained cries. Once they were off I took the softer, non leather one and wrapped the sleeves around his wound, pressing his already soaking shirt against his wound like a makeshift bandage.

"Hang on, Dean," I practically begged him. "We have to get you to the car, okay?" Dean nodded in response, gritting his teeth. I grabbed one arm, and John grabbed the other. Together we managed to stagger the car, and I quickly opened the backseat as John held him upright.

"You stay in the back with him," He didn't need to tell me; I was already moving Dean's head onto my lap as I slid into the seat, slamming the door behind me. A moment later, the engine revved, and we sped away from the warehouse.

* * *

**Lawrence, Kansas**

**2005**

"You okay?" I took Dean's hand as he looked out the window at his old home. He cut off the engine before turning to face me.

"Let me get back to you on that," I let go of his hand and opened the door, sliding out of the car before slamming it behind me. The three of us walked up to the house, and Dean knocked on the door firmly.

"Yes?" A woman answered, only half opening the door, so we could only see her face. When she saw who it was, she opened it the rest of the way and came out.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-" Dean started with the usual routine. "I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean, and his girlfriend, Mel. Um… we used to live here," Sam introduced us. "You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place,"

"Winchester," The woman mused, "That is so funny. You know, I-I think I found some of your photos the other night," I frowned slightly, but quickly smiled as she looked at me.

"You did?" Dean asked in surprise, and she nodded confirmation.

"I'm Jenny," She told us before glancing into her house uncertainly. "Okay, come on in," I followed Sam into the house with Dean close behind me. Dean and I walked down a hallway that led to the kitchen where a little boy, who couldn't have been older than two was bouncing up and down excitedly.

"Juice, juice, juice!" He demanded over and over again, and I couldn't help smiling at how adorable he was.

"That's Richie. He's kind of a juice junkie," She introduced us to her kid, unlatching the fridge and getting his sippy cup, probably filled with juice, and handing it to him. "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy," She turned to the young girl of about six who was sitting on the stool coloring in crayons. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Mel. They used to live here,"

"Hi," She greeted, and I smiled at her warmly.

"Hey," I replied for all three of us, raising my hand in a half wave. "So," I turned my attention to the mother. "You three just moved in?"

"Uh, yeah, from Wichita," She informed us, cleaning the table.

"You got family here, or…?" Dean questioned her.

"No, I just, uh, um, needed a fresh start. That's all," She responded hesitantly. "So new town, new job - I mean, as soon as I find one - new house."

"So, how you liking it so far?" Sam asked, and I saw her shift uneasily.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home - I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here -" I glanced at Dean and then Sam. Far from it. "But this place has its issues,"

"Well, like what?" I inquired, glancing at Richie in the crib, and then at Sari.

"Well, it's just getting old, like, the wiring, you know?" My eyes snapped to her. The wiring. That was a sign of haunting. "We've got flickering lights almost hourly,"

"Oh, that's too bad," Dean spoke in a slightly strained voice. "What else?"

"Um… sink's backed up. There's rats in the basement," She vented, leaning on the counter and gesturing in annoyance and frustration with her dishcloth. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain,"

"No," Dean brushed it off like it was nothing, "Have you seen the rats or have you just heard the scratching?" He checked.

"Just the scratching, actually," Definitely a haunting. I turned to glance up at Dean's pained face before taking his hand without a word and lacing our fingers together before looking back at the mother. Dean's hand tightened around mine.

"Mom?" I detected the fear in Sari's voice as Jenny knelt beside her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here,"

"What, Sari?" Dean prompted, giving her his understanding, doe eyes.

"The thing in my closet," Sari told us, glancing back at her mom.

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets," Jenny comforted her child before turning to us, "Right?"

"Right, no. No, of course not," Sam responded dutifully.

"She had a nightmare the other night," She told us.

"I wasn't dreaming," The kid protested. "It came into my bedroom, and it was on fire," My eyes widened slightly as she spoke those words. On fire.

"We'd better be going," Sam excused us. "We can come by and pick up the pictures later,"

"Oh," Jenny said, somewhat startled, "Oh, okay," We exited the house, Dean practically dragging me out the door.

"You hear that? A figure on fire," Sam was talking the second we left house.

"And that woman, Jenny, was the woman in your dreams?" Dean double checked, pointing back at the house and looking more freaked out by the second.

"Yeah, and you hear about?" Sam asked us rhetorically; it was kinda hard to miss. "Scratching, flickering lights? Both signs of a malevolent spirit,"

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out about your weirdo visions are coming true," Dean told him as we reached the car.

"Forget about that for a minute - the thing in the house. Do you think it's the thing that killed our moms and Jessica?" Sam raved at us in excitement at the prospect of being close to her killer finally.

"We don't know!" Dean snapped at him, but it barely dented Sam's spirit.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been there the whole time?" I turned to face Sam, not being able to stand this any longer.

"You don't know, Sam! You don't know if it's the thing that killed our moms and Jessica. Okay? It could be something else!" I spoke the truth, but it didn't matter to him.

"Those people are in danger, guys. We have to get them out of that house," Sam was right, but something felt off about the house.

"We will," Dean promised, turning back to the car.

"No, I mean now," Sam insisted stubbornly.

"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean snapped, turning back to him. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam yelled, not caring if anyone heard him.

"You both have to calm down," I spoke carefully to them. "We need gas," I added, "So we'll stop there first and then figure out what to do next, all right?" They both nodded, and Dean angrily jerked open the driver's door and got in, slamming it behind him. I went around the hood to the front seat and slid in next to Dean, leaving Sam for the back.

The nearest gas station turned out to be a mere two minutes away. Dean stopped to gas up the car while I went in to get some food, for we hadn't stopped to eat on the way to Lawrence. I bought a couple bars for Dean and Sam and a muffin for me before heading back out to the car. "We just got to chill out, that's all," Dean was saying as I reached them. "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?"

"We would figure out what's haunting the place," I threw the food into the back of the car and turned to the boys.

"Right," Sam agreed, sighing, "We'd dig into the history of the house,"

"Exactly, except this time we already know what happened," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, but how much do we know? How much do you two remember?" Sam questioned, and I felt Dean stiffen beside me and take my hand.

"About that night, you mean?" Dean questioned, hoping he was wrong.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, glancing back and forth between us. His hand tightened in mine as he took a breath.

"Not much. I remember the fire… the heat. Then I carried you and pushed Mel out the front door," Sam looked at us in sharp surprise.

"You did?" He asked, his eyes flicking from Dean to me.

"Yeah, well, you never knew that?" Dean glanced at Sam, who shook his head slightly.

"No," He answered.

"Yeah, and, um, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do - mom was on the ceiling, and whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her," Dean swallowed thickly.

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked the question that I'd been wondering for the past twenty-two years.

"If he did, he didn't share it," I informed Sam slightly bitter, turning to lean on the Impala with Dean. "God knows we asked him enough times,"

"Okay," Sam accepted it, "So, if we're gonna figure out what's going on now, we have to figure out what happened back then. See if it's the same thing," Sam's reasoning was perfectly logical, yet I found myself searching for a fault in it.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time,"

"Does this feel like any other job to you two?" Sam questioned, glancing at us from where he was leaning on the Impala next to us. Dean considered the question for a moment, and I could _feel_ the distress and sadness coming off of him.

"I'll be right back. I got to go to the bathroom," He spoke in a hoarse voice pushing off the car and letting his hand slip from mine. Sam and I watched him walk away until he rounded the corner of the gas station and disappeared from sight.

"You think he'll be okay?" Sam asked me, and I kept my eyes on the corner that Dean had disappeared around.

"I don' t know," I answered truthfully. I was worried about him. Dean always carried so much pain, and he never let anyone see it. This was hurting him more than he was letting us see. "I'm going to go see if he's all right," I told Sam, walking past him and around the corner. Dean was facing away from me with his phone pressed against his ear. I didn't need to have great hearing to know who he was calling.

"Dad… " His voice broke, and he swallowed hard, "I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you get 'em, but I'm with Sam and Mel, and we're in Lawrence, and there's something in our old house," He glanced back briefly, but turned around fully when he saw me. "I…I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but… I don't know what to do," He looked directly into my eyes as his voice cracked again. I hesitantly took a step forward, knowing that sometimes Dean needed space. He put his arm around me as I wrapped mine around his waist. "So, whatever you're doing, if you could get here…" He took a shaky breath, and I buried my face into his neck, feeling him press his lips to the top of my head for a moment before continuing, "Please. I need your help, Dad," I pulled back from him slightly, gently taking the phone from his frozen finger and snapping it shut. He pressed his forehead into my hair and took shaky breaths to calm himself.

"Do you think he'll even bother showing up?" Dean asked bitterly, raising his head.

"Yeah," I answered truthfully. "I do. He cares about you, Dean," Dean stepped back, brushing the tears off his cheeks and sent me a bravado smile. I reached up and kissed his cheek earning a real smile from him before we headed back to Sam.

* * *

"You and John Winchester, you, uh, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked the mechanic, who led us to the garage. We had decided to treat this like any other case, and so our first step was looking into John's past life.

"Yeah, we used to. A long time ago," The mechanic told us nostalgically. "Matter of fact, must be 20 years since John disappeared. So, why are the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"Oh, we're reopening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of them," Dean explained to the man.

"Uh-huh. Well, what do you want to know about John?" He decided to cooperate with a shrug.

"Whatever you can remember," I told him, smiling encouragingly.

"Well, he was a stubborn bastard. I remember that," I couldn't help but grin slightly at that. Definitely John. "And, uh… oh, whatever the game, he hated to loose, you know? It was that whole marine thing. But, uh… well, he sure loved Mary, and he doted on those three kids. Only two of them were his, boys I think. Then there was a girl who they took care of for Jimmy - John's friend from the marines," I stiffened slightly at the mention of my dad but forced myself to relax.

"But that was before the fire," Sam checked, glancing at Dean and I.

"That's right," The mechanic confirmed.

"He ever talk about that night?" Sam questioned, and the man looked down as if reliving a bad memory.

"No, not at first. I think he was in shock," He hesitated for a moment.

"But he did say something?" I prompted, and the man glanced at me for a moment before finally nodding.

"Oh, he wasn't thinking straight. He said, uh -" He laughed nervously, "He said something caused that fire and killed Mary. He said it was the same thing that started the fire that killed Jimmy's wife few years before,"

"Did he ever mention what he thought did it?" I asked, hoping to finally get some answers on what we'd been hunting for twenty-two years.

"Nothing did it," He answered, looking at me as though I was the crazy one. "It was an accident. An electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something. I begged him to get some help, but…" He trailed off and shook his head.

"But what?" Dean asked.

"Oh, it just got worse and worse," The guy answered vaguely.

"How?" I questioned, and his eyes flicked between Dean and I.

"That friend, Jimmy, started coming around more and more, and he started reading these strange, old books. Him and his buddy went to see this palm reader in town,"

"Palm reader?" Dean echoed curiously, glancing at me and raising his eyebrows. "You have a name?"

"No," The mechanic scoffed unhelpfully, and Dean shot him a slight glare.

"Well, thank you for talking to us. We'll get out of your way," I excused us as politely as I could, grabbing Dean's arm in one hand and Sam's in the other and steering them out of the garage. We drove to the nearest pay phone, and Sam got out, flipping through the phone book while Dean and I leaned against the Impala.

"So, there are a few psychics and palm readers in town," Sam informed us, scanning the page. "There's someone named El Divino. There's," Sam broke off with a laugh, "The mysterious Mr. Fortinsky," I laughed lightly as Sam turned to us, wiggling his eyebrows at the name. "Uh, Missouri Moseley, some dude-"

"Wait, wait, Missouri Moseley?" Dean repeated, pushing off the car.

"What?" Sam paused, glancing up at him.

"That's a psychic?" I frowned in thought for a moment, studying Dean's face and trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, I guess so," Dean moved around me to the backdoor.

"Do you remember in Dad's journal…" He took the journal out of the back, and my eyes widened as I realized what he was getting at. "Come here. Look at this," He called to Sammy, who came over as Dean showed me the first sentence of the page before handing the book to Sam. "First sentence,"

"I went to Missouri…" Sam started to read before getting lost in thought. "And I learned the truth," He finished, glancing up at us.

"We always thought he meant the state," I muttered before turning back to Sam. "What's the address listed?" Sam tore out the page, and slid into the passenger's seat while I took the back. The ride to Missouri's only took two minutes even with the traffic as slow as it was. When we got there, I took a seat on the couch in between Sam and Dean as we waited for the psychic to be done with the older man. Dean's knee bounced restlessly as he flipped through magazine after magazine while Sam sat silently on my other side. I laid my hand gently on his knee, and it's bouncing froze. Next, I took the magazine from Dean's hands and tossed it back on the table with the others, taking his hand instead.

"All right, then," A soft voice came down the hallway. "Don't you worry about a thing. You're wife is crazy about you," The door opened and closed as the man walked out. "Whew," The psychic went on, turning to us as soon as the older man was out of earshot. "Poor bastard. His woman is cold banging the gardener," I laughed a bit in surprise as she walked past us, pausing for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked, chucking.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." She continued for a moment before turning again to look at us expectantly. "Well, Sam, Dean, and Melody, come on already. I ain't got all day," I grinned after her; I liked her already. We rose and followed her into a quaint back room. "Well, let me look at you," She laughed as Dean and I joined Sam in standing before her. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome, and you were one goofy-looking kid, too," She added, staring right at Dean. I laughed at those words, and Dean shot me an incredulous look. "And you," She turned to me. "You were beautiful from the start," She turned back to Dean for a moment, "You're a lucky man," I laughed again, and Dean tightened his hold on my hand slightly. "And, Sam," She took his hand, placing hers over it and suddenly frowning. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry about your girlfriend, and your father… he's missing?" Dean tensed at the mention of John.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked, completely miffed.

"Well, you were just thinking it, just now," She explained as if it should be obvious.

"Well, where is he?" Dean wanted to know.

"Is he okay?" I followed his question rapidly with one of my own.

"I don't know," She replied, frowning a bit.

"Don't know?" He glanced at me and then Sam. "You're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?" Dean opened and closed his mouth, for once speechless, "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air," I glanced up at Dean, who looked taken aback, and then at Sam, who was looking all too pleased. "Sit! Please," She practically ordered us, pointing to her couch. Sam sat down first, and I took a seat next to him, Dean sitting next to me. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon," I bit back a laugh at Dean's startled face as Missouri pointed an accusing finger at him.

"I didn't do anything," Dean defended himself.

"Well, you were thinking about it," I glanced at Sam to see him laughing and looking at Missouri as if she was the greatest thing he'd ever seen.

"All right, John," I began, turning the attention back to more pressing matters, "When did you two first meet?"

"Your father was the one that first introduced us. He brought John in for a reading a few days after the fire. I just help explain to him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say I helped draw back the curtains for him,"

"What about the fire?" Dean asked eagerly, leaning forward. "Do you know about what killed our moms?"

"A little," I listened attentively as Missouri continued. "Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing,"

"And could you?" Sam questioned, and Missouri shook her head.

"I don't…"

"What happened?" I asked as gently as I could.

"I don't know," She confessed. "Oh, but it was evil," Even know she sounded terrified, and she shook her head again, glancing at us. "So, you think something's back in that house?" Sam nodded.

"Definitely," He spoke the word with conviction.

"I… I don't understand," She frowned in confusion.

"What?" I inquired.

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keeping an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?"

"I don't know, but Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house - all happening at once - it… it just feels like something's starting," Sam confided in her.

"That's a comforting thought," Dean spoke, sarcasm hiding the worry in his voice. I admired Missouri. Maybe I'd end up being like this someday with my hearing. I'd live in a nice, little house and lie to people who's wives are cheating on them. Probably not.

"No," The three of us glanced at Missouri as she spoke up after the moment of silence that had followed Dean's words. "You won't do this," She was looking right at me, and I couldn't help glancing at Sam nervously. Sam caught the glance and frowned at me.

"What?" I questioned innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me," She admonished me lightly, "Your powers," Her eyes flicked to Sam suddenly, widening slightly in realization.

"What?" Sam asked, eyes flicking between me, Dean, and Missouri. "What's she talking about?" I studied the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "Melody," He demanded, using my full first name which forced me to look up and meet his eyes. I hated lying to Sam. Even when we were kids I'd hated it. I thought I would have time to explain what had happened. I thought I could make him understand why I didn't tell him originally.

"I'll explain everything later, Sam, but right now we need to bring Missouri to the house," I collected myself and spoke calmly to him, but Sam folded his arms over his chest stubbornly, glaring. I glared right back, and we had a stare down before he finally relented.

"Fine," He stalked past me and out the door, and I sighed heavily.

"He was going to find out, Mels," Dean pointed out, sounding tired.

"The boy's right," Missouri agreed, grabbing her coat from the back of a chair. "He needed to know," She followed Sam out the door, and I felt frozen to the spot, watching her leave. Dean's arms wrapped around my waist, and I leaned backward into the comfort of his chest.

"He's going to hate me," I said dully, still staring at the closed door hopelessly.

"Sam couldn't hate you if he tried," Dean replied, kissing the top of my head. "Just give him some time," He kissed my forehead and then bent his neck to kiss my neck playfully. Despite everything, I giggled and turned my head towards his. The moment I did, he captured my lips with his, my hand automatically going to the back of his head to toy with his short hair. Warmth bubbled inside of me as our lips moved together. Suddenly, something hit Dean's shoulder, causing us both to jump and break the kiss. Dean's arms instinctively tightened around my waist as we both looked towards the door.

"Well, come on, we don't have all day," Missouri scolded before exiting again. I blinked down at the ground and then up at Dean in shock.

"Did she just throw a shoe at us?"

"Yeah, I think she did,"

* * *

**Austin, Texas**

**2001**

"Bitch snuck up on me," Dean groaned as John passed me the first-aid kit from the glove compartment. I'd insisted on keeping it there despite both boys protests about the lack of room.

"Don't worry, I got her," I reassured him, offering a shaky smile, and Dean grimaced, which might've been his attempt to return my smile.

"What about my jacket?" I let out a choked laugh at his question as I undid the jacket I'd tied around his wound, finding his shirt soaked in blood.

"Yeah, I got it," I told him, worry creeping into my voice as I glanced at his half closed eyes. "Dean? Hey, come on, stay awake, all right?" I opened a disinfecting spray and cleaned his wound, making Dean hiss in pain. He arched his back again as I sprayed more. "It's okay. It's okay," I repeated, grabbing his hand, forcing him to stay down.

"Mel…" I glanced at him to see him studying my face, his features twisted in pain. "If I die-"

"You're not going to die," I interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. "You can't," The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"But, if I do-" He insisted.

"You won't," I repeated firmly. My hands shook with fear as I wrapped the white bandages around his stomach tightly. "We'll be at the hospital in five minutes," I promised him, having no idea how long it would take us to get there.

"We're not going to the hospital, Mel," John spoke solemnly from the front, and my eyes snapped up to meet his in the rearview mirror.

"What do you mean? He needs a doctor!" John gave me a look, and I bit my tongue to stop the flow of protests. "John," I spoke with forced calm.

"We can't risk it," He told me decisively with a sadness in his eyes. "They'll find the body soon, and we can't be here when they do," John had that all too familiar fire in his eyes that he got when he hunted. The fire that said he would sacrifice anything to finish the hunt.

"It's okay, Mel," Dean's tired words cut my argument short, and I looked back down at him. "You can fix me in the motel," I knew he was just trying to stop the fighting, and that only made me angrier.

"Fine," I relented, glancing at the sloppily bandaged wound. If-when he was healed, it would definitely leave a nasty scar. "But you can't die, okay? Besides, what would Sammy say?" I played my last card, and Dean's eyes widened a bit at the mention of his brother. None of us had mentioned Sam since he'd decided to go off to college. I bit my lip at the memory of the choice I'd helped him make.

"Yeah, he'd laugh - say I got my ass kicked by a girl," I laughed softly, nodding. That did sound like Sam.

_John POV_

John watched the two from the rearview mirror as he drove twenty miles over the speed limit back to the motel they were staying at. He'd never seen Dean let down his guard with anybody like he did with Mel. They were good together. The ghost of a smile passed over John's lips as he thought about the two of them. Back when Dean was just born and Grace was eight months pregnant with Mel, him and Jimmy would joke about their kids getting married. Never thought it would actually happen, of course. Seeing them now, it was hard to imagine they wouldn't.

Mel would always be like a daughter to him, and Dean was his boy. They were two of the three people he cared about most in the world. Then, he heard Mel say Sam's name, and the familiar rush of rage and fear twisted his gut. His hands gripped the wheel tighter as he tried to control the anger and not snap at the two.

"Do you think it'll scar?" John grinned at Dean's slightly hopeful voice, and Mel laughed lightly.

"Yeah, it'll scar," Mel told him, earning a grin from Dean. John pulled up in front of their motel room, and quickly got out, going around the car to where Mel was sitting.

"Get him out," He ordered, and Mel took the room key from her back pocket before helping him get Dean out of the car. He supported his son as Mel rushed to open the door. He placed Dean carefully on the bed before heading back towards the door.

"Where are you going?" He turned back to face her, car keys already in his hand. He'd been telling her since the beginning that she could just call him dad, but she'd refused to comply. He knew why, too. His eyes fell on the shirtless Dean, who was looking at him with worried determination while at the same time seeming like he would pass out any moment.

"Hunt down the other bitch," She flinched a bit, knowing it was her fault the second one had escaped. "You shouldn't have left," He wasn't the type of guy to sugarcoat anything. She could've gotten everyone killed.

"But Dean-" She started, and he just held up a hand, shaking his head before turning and heading for the door.

_Mel POV_

I sighed as I watched John shut the door behind him before turning back to Dean, who was lying shirtless on the bed. I sat down next to him, redoing the bandages that I'd done badly in the car. When my eyes flicked back to his face, he was asleep, and I lightly kissed him on the cheek before flipping out my phone to make sure John was okay.

* * *

**Lawrence, Kansas**

**2005**

"Dean, Mel, Sam, what are you doing here?" Jenny asked when she'd opened the door to reveal herself carrying her son, Richie.

"Hey, Jenny. Um, this is our friend, Missouri," Sam greeted her.

"If it's not too much trouble we were hoping to show here the house," Dean told her, and Jenny looked at the four of us uncertainly for a moment, holding her baby tighter.

"You know, for old time's sake," I added helpfully, and her face grew even more nervous.

"No, you know, this isn't a good time. I'm kinda busy," There was something in her eyes that told me she was frightened.

"Listen, Jenny it's important-" I put a hand on Dean's arm to stop him from entering the house, and Missouri whacked him in the back of the head.

"Give the poor girl a break. Can't you see she's upset?" The psychic chided Dean, who glanced at me and then stared at her incredulously. "Forgive this boy. He means well," She continued to Jenny, who was bouncing Richie to keep him happy. "He's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but at least he has his girlfriend to keep him in line," Dean and I raised my eyebrows at her in shock at her statement, but she didn't even glance at us. "But hear me out,"

"About what?" Jenny questioned. At least she was listening now.

"About this house," Missouri answered, glancing at the house.

"What are you talking about?" Jenny frowned at her but still listened.

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?" Jenny swallowed nervously as Missouri talked and glanced around at each of us.

"Who are you?" Jenny avoided the question, narrowing her eyes.

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing, but you're gonna have to trust us just a little," Jenny thought for a moment before letting us through the door. Sam walked in before me coldly, not glancing at me as he did so. The car ride had been spent in a tense silence with me riding in front with Dean and Sam in the back with Missouri. Any attempts at conversation Dean had made where quickly shot down by Sam's one word answers.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it," Missouri told us as we walked into a random room of the house. "Why?" Sam asked, looking around,

"This used to be your nursery, Sam," Missouri answered him. Dean hadn't let go of my hand since we'd come into the house, and he tightened his grip now while I tensed. "This is where it all happened," I let out a startled cry as pain erupted in my head. I stepped backwards as I heard a terrified scream emit from the roof. _Mary!_ The voice sounded much younger and more innocent than I remember, but it was definitely John. Abruptly, the noise cut off, and I blinked up at Dean, who was holding my face in his hands, looking worried.

"You can hear them, can't you?" My gaze slid passed Dean to rest on Missouri for a moment before I nodded. I snuck a glance at Sam to see him scrutinizing me with a frown, a betrayed look in his puppy brown eyes.

"The E.M.F," I focused on Dean again, who hesitated a moment, studying me before finally nodding and taking the gadget out of his pocket, pulling out the antenna.

"That an E.M.F?" Missouri questioned, beckoning me over with one hand while the other hovered over different objects.

"Yeah," Dean replied as I went to stand by her.

"Amateur," She grabbed my wrist and pulled my open hand over a binder and notebook. I frowned, trying to feel something but only getting a blank confusion. She sighed before turning back to the boys, "I don't know if you should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your moms,"

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, glancing at me with another frown before looking back at Missouri, who nodded solemnly. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different," She explained to us, glancing around the room.

"Well, what do you think it is?" I inquired, going to stand by Dean and Sam as she opened the closet.

"Not it," She told us, going into the walk-in closet. "Them. There's more than one spirit in this place,"

"What are they doing here?" Dean questioned.

"They're here because of what happened to your family," Missouri elaborated, walking towards us. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you," Sam clenched his jaw and glanced at us as Missouri spoke, staring right at him. "It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds, and sometimes wounds get infected,"

"I don't understand," Sam shook his head.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy," She glanced backwards at the desk and windows. "It's attracted a poltergeist - a nasty one - and it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead,"

"But there's more than one spirit in this place," I remembered, hoping the other one might be of help in some way.

"There is," She agreed, going back into the closet. "I just can't quite make out the second one," She was staring at me now, frowning in thought.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure - nobody's dying in this house ever again," Dean spoke with hard determination, facing us. "So, whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

"So, what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asked Missouri as he and I put a bit of each ingredient into small black bags. Sam hadn't said one word since we'd found out that it wasn't the thing that killed our moms, and I was growing more worried by the second.

"Angelica root, van van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends," She listed, pointing to each material as she talked.

"What do we do with it after we're finished?" I questioned, and she glanced at me briefly.

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the North, South, East, West corners on each floor of the house," She explained, taking a seat across from Dean and I.

"Punching holes in the drywall - Jenny's gonna love that," Dean quipped sarcastically, glancing at me.

"She'll live," Missouri pointed out.

"And this will destroy the spirits?" Sam finally spoke up.

"It should," Missouri nodded. "It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor, but we work fast," I glanced at Dean to see him licking some of the crossroad dirt, and I made a face, making him grin as he tried to get the taste off his tongue. "Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad,"

Missouri took Jenny and her children outside, assuring them all the while that everything would be fine when they returned. We were each handed a hammer and assigned a floor to purify. I walked with Dean down the hallway that led to the stairs to the basement, and I could hear Sam as he reached the second floor.

"Be careful," I turned at Dean's words to peck him on the lips, smiling a bit.

"You too," I took a deep breath before descending the stairs and letting my hand slip out of Dean's. The East, West, and North sides went smoothly enough, and I walked into the room to put the last pouch into the wall. As gently as I could, I made a small hole in the wall for the bag. That's when it happened. A faint rustling a couple feet away caught my attention, and I whipped around to see a bat hovering in the air a few inches from my head. I ducked just in time, and the bat smashed into the wall. I shoved the pouch into the wall as I heard the thud of a knife hitting wood coming from the first floor.

Dean.

Panic made my blood pump faster, and adrenaline spiked my heartbeat. The bat reared back for another swing, and this time I was ready. Throwing my hands out in front of my face, I grabbed the bat mid swing. The force threw me to the floor, but I held on tightly, wrestling with the thing. An idea struck me, and it jerked me to my feet, trying to shake me off and slamming me into the door of a closet in the process. Miraculously, I managed to unlatch the door and used the bat's force to push it into the closet, quickly closing the door behind it and propping a chair against the handle, making it impossible to get out. I bolted up the stairs and ran smack into Dean, who was just throwing open the door to the basement.

"Dean!" I exclaimed in utter relief at his being okay. My relief froze when I heard the choking noise from upstairs.

"What? What is it?" He asked tensely as I looked at him with horror.

"Sam," The one word changed everything, and we bolted up the stairs to the second floor. "This way," I led him towards the choking sounds and saw Sam lying on the floor struggling with the electrical wire that was wrapped around his neck.

"Sam!" Dean knelt next to him, trying as best he could to force the cord to release Sam. My eyes scanned the room for anything that could help, and they fell on the small, black pouch that had been dropped near Sam's feet.

"Sam, hang on!" I snatched it up and Dean, seeing what I was doing, kicked a hole in the wall. I shoved it in, and Dean grabbed me tightly, pressing me against the wall and covering me with his body as we were shrouded in a blinding light. The light faded, and Dean and I scrambled over to Sam. I grabbed his jacket, pulling him into sitting position as Dean hurriedly took off the cord from around his neck. Sam gasped and wheezed, and Dean hugged him hard while I kissed the his forehead and wrapped my arms around his neck, weak with relief.

An hour later we were standing around the ruins of Jenny's kitchen, and I briefly wondered if she'd be angry at us for trashing her house. Not that it mattered anyway, we'd be long gone before she could do anything about it. A wave of trepidation came over me, making me grab the counter tightly until it passed.

"Are you sure this is over?" Sam checked, glancing at Missouri.

"I'm sure," Missouri said confidently. "Why? Why do you ask?"

"No, it's nothing, I guess," Sam sighed, turning away from her. I heard the engine outside, and I didn't even have to glance out the window to know it was Jenny. A moment later the door opened, and she walked in.

"Hey, we're home," She stopped short as she took in the mess that was her kitchen. "What happened?"

"Sorry," I offered her, "We'll pay for the damages," I added, earning me a sharp glance from Dean which I returned with a pointed look.

"Don't you worry," Missouri told her, "Dean's gonna clean up this mess," I bit my lip to hold in a laugh as Missouri turned to face Dean expectantly. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop," Dean turned his head so his lips were a couple inches from my ear.

"Son of a bitch," He muttered, so only I would be able to hear him.

"And don't cuss at me," Missouri added in annoyance, making me laugh a bit as Dean sullenly went to get a mop. "I'm going to help Jenny," Missouri excused herself, glancing to Sam before giving me a pointed look.

"What's happening?" Sam asked me, and I took a deep breath, meeting his eyes calmly.

"It all started a couple months after I turned twenty-two," I began, the memories flooding my mind. "I started… hearing things that I shouldn't have been able to hear," I struggled to find the words to explain what was happening.

"Like what?" Sam questioned, sounding intrigued and slightly angry at the same time.

"Like a fly buzzing a hundred yards away. Or someone whispering five houses down," I paused for a moment to let that sink in before continuing. "It usually works best if it's someone I have a connection to. Someone I know. Or, sometimes, on a hunt…"

"If it's a victim," Sam finished for me, and I nodded, remembering the screams that still haunted me.

"I can control it a bit better now, and it's not just hearing anymore. It's feelings too. I get… bad feelings when something's going to happen,"

"When were you planning on telling me?" Anger lined his voice as he asked me the question.

"I was going to tell you, Sam. I swear," I started truthfully, my eyes never leaving his.

"When?" His eyes held an unwavering determination to get an answer.

"I don't know," I admitted, breaking the hold his eyes had on mine.

"I told you, Mel," He spoke softly, and when I peeked at him, he was now glaring at me. "I told you about my nightmares, but you didn't tell me. I thought I was going crazy, and you knew! You knew I wasn't! Something was happening to you too, and you just let me think that I was insane!" His voice raised until he was yelling at me.

"I'm sorry, all right? I should've told you! I know that!" I shouted back at him.

"Well, thanks! That helps so much-" Sam cut me off heatedly.

"Hey!" I turned to see Dean standing there with a mop in his hand. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Sam replied, and before I could say a word, he stalked out the door.

* * *

**Austin, Texas**

**2001**

I tapped the phone against my closed lips in worry as John still hadn't come back, and he'd been gone for five hours already. Decidedly, I flipped up the phone, ready to dial, but shut it again. Damn John Winchester. He could be dying somewhere, and he probably wouldn't call. With a sigh, I set my cell down on the table and sat heavily in one of the chairs, watching Dean, who was still sleeping for a moment before standing again restlessly.

"Mel?" I turned to see Dean blinking groggily at me, and a relieved smile crossed my face as I went to the bed.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" I checked the bandages, making sure they were all right before I met his sleepy eyes.

"Like my stomach got hit by a bus," He answered, and I laughed lightly.

"Well, you shouldn't have let her sneak up on you," I mock admonished him, and he laughed softly. I focused my hearing on his heartbeat, relieved that it was still strong and steady.

"I was distracted," He admitted, his grin faltering for a moment as if he hadn't expected to say that.

"Yeah, by what? What could be so important that you let a werewolf get the better of you?" I raised an eyebrow at him, and he glanced away and then back, the smile gone.

"Sammy," His heart stumbled for a second, and fear shot through me. It regained it's rhythm, and I furrowed my brow in confusion on what just happened. It was probably just worry.

"Don't worry about him, Dean. He'll be fine. He has his own life now," I took his hand in both of mine, intertwining our fingers.

"Did you ever want to go to college?" His question so completely threw me that for a few long moments I had no answer.

"No," I answered finally, and I heard my own heart skip a beat. "So, what really distracted you?" I took a guess, and he didn't even seem surprised that I'd called him out on it. I could usually tell when Dean was lying. I mean, I'd known him for my whole life.

"You," He confessed earnestly, and my heart sped up. "What aren't you telling me, Mel?" He sat up, wincing slightly, and I was trapped in his smoldering green eyes.

"Dean…" The protest died on my lips as I realized I had to tell him. "The married couple in room 205 are arguing," He frowned in confusion as we were in room 200. "I can hear them," I added before he could say anything.

"What do you mean you can hear them?" He finally spoke.

"I mean I can hear them," I released his hand, tearing my eyes away from his green ones. "They're arguing about whether she is cheating on him. He thinks she is, but she's insisting she isn't," Dean was silent for a moment which seemed like an eternity to me.

"Dad knows about this?" He finally asked, sounding betrayed. I nodded but winced at his tone. "And you didn't tell me cause… what? You didn't trust me?" He was getting angrier by the second, and now he stood, pulling on his shirt that had been lying on the table.

"No! I just - I didn't know what was happening to me!" I protested, rising to my feet quickly. "I didn't want to worry you-"

"Worry me?" He turned on me with fire in his eyes. "Well great job on that!" He pulled on his jacket and yanked open the door.

"Dean, where are you going?" I followed him out the door, hurrying to get in front of him and place a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"How can I keep you safe, protect you, if you don't even tell me what the hell is going on?" He asked me, staring right into my eyes, our faces inches apart. I wanted to reach up and press my lips against his, to run my fingers through his hair, to rip off his grey shirt. His eyes flicked down to my lips, and I forced myself to take a step backwards. His eyes grew hard and cold, and he brushed past me. This time I let him.

All at once I was lifted off my feet and thrown into the air. I let out a surprised scream as I hit the concrete and rolled to a painful stop. I heard Dean shout my name. A million thoughts raced through my mind in the two seconds it took me to stand, but the clearest one was Dean was injured. He had kicked the woman to the ground and knocked her out, and was leaning against the railing, catching his breath.

"Are you okay?" He panted, forcing himself to straighten. I winced as I bent my elbow, realizing I was covered with scrapes and bruises, but I nodded anyway. We dragged her inside and tied her to the chair, using duct tape to cover her mouth. Dean called John, who came in about three minutes, having been at the library that was just down the road. We packed up all of our stuff and put it in the car, and she woke up just as we had finished.

"Go ahead," She snarled, baring her teeth at Dean, who cocked the gun. "There's more than just me, and they'll come after you," She promised, and her brutal, canine eyes flicked to me. "They'll kill you, and your girlfriend-" Whatever more she was going to say was ended with a gun shot.

* * *

**Lawrence, Kansas**

**2005**

"So, tell me again - what are we still doing here?" Dean questioned, glancing in the rearview at Sam. We were staked out in front of Jenny's house, and I rested my head on Dean's shoulder while he had his arm around my waist.

"I don't know, I-I just - I still have a bad feeling," Sam explained ambiguously.

"Why?" Dean questioned. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing," I hit Dean's chest lightly at his bitter tone; he was just mad because she'd made him clean the kitchen. "The house should be clean. This should be over,"

"That's probably true, but it doesn't hurt to make sure," I replied on Sam's behalf. "Besides, I trust Sam's instincts," My eyes locked on his in the rearview. He was still mad. Sam wasn't like Dean in that way. It didn't matter if he loved you or not, Sam could hold a grudge forever.

"Yeah, I guess. Problem is we could be sleeping in a bed right now," Dean kissed my head before shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Guys!" Sam hit my shoulder, and I jerked up to look at the house as Sam opened his door. I scrambled out of the car after Dean, being on the driver's side already.

"You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny," Dean shouted at us as we sprinted towards the house. We ran through the door, and Dean immediately took the stairs two at a time with Sam and me following.

"I'll get the girl," I barely glanced at Sam as I heard her screaming. Her scream was laced with another, older woman's. Mary Winchester. Oh, my god. I froze in the doorway of the girl's room when I saw the figure on fire standing there and the girl on the bed sobbing.

"Come here," I stayed close to the wall as I approached her bed, keeping my eyes on the figure while holding out my hand to Sari. She clutched my hand before grabbing my waist and pulling herself behind me. I guided her to the door of her room and hurried down the stairs towards the door where Sam was hesitating.

"Take them out side," He glanced around the house, frowning before he suddenly hit the floor. There was a deep, inhuman growl before Sam started sliding backwards.

"Sam!" I called after him desperately. "Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back," I told the girl quickly, pushing them towards the door before racing after Sam. He was bent over on the floor near the far wall, and I gently grabbed his face between my hands, studying it to make sure he was okay. I let out a short scream as I was ripped from him and flew back into the air to crash into something hard.

"Mel!" I groaned in response, managing to sit upright through the pain, and something pulled me backwards into a wall. Sam hit the wall beside me a moment later. I could vaguely hear the bashing of wood and Dean calling our names. The figure on fire came towards us slowly.

"Don't be scared, Sam," I was suddenly filled with calm. "I know who it is," I heard the scream again this time, but it was distant now.

"What?" Sam yelled like I was completely ludicrous.

"Come on, Sam. Think! You know who it is too," I groaned whatever force was keeping me against the wall pressed harder.

"Mel! Sam!" Dean walked into the room, standing in front of us and raising the gun.

"Dean don't!" Dean glanced at me uncertainly but didn't shoot.

"What? Why?" He kept the gun pointed at her.

"Because we know who it is," Sam realized, his face changing into an expression of sorrow and longing. "I can see her now," Slowly, the fire died, and the figure took it's true form. Mary.

"Mom," Dean's voice was hoarse as he lowered his weapon.

"Dean," She smiled, coming to stand before Dean, and then moving past him to come before Sam. "Sam," She smiled proudly at him as a tear slid down his cheek. "I'm sorry,"

"F-for what?" He managed, and I just stared at Mary, who had been my mother when I'd had none. She stood in front of me now, still smiling proudly.

"Melody," Two tears made their way down my face, "Take care of them," I offered her a shaky smile as she turned away from me. "You, get out of my house, and let go of my children," Mary went up in flames, glaring up at the ceiling. Sam and I were released, and I breathed shakily, taking in what just happened.

"Mom?" Dean whispered, and I went over, slipping my hand into his and pressing my lips to his shoulder as another tear rolled down my cheek. That was the last time I'd ever see Mary Winchester.

"Now it's over," Sam's voice was thick with emotion.

* * *

"Thanks for these," Dean thanked Jenny as we looked at the pictures. There was one of John and Mary beneath the tree. There was another one of a four-year-old Dean smiling widely while a younger me kissed him on the cheek.

"Don't thank me. They're yours," He threw them into the chest he'd taken them out of and closed it. I glanced at the porch were Missouri was standing and walking away, leaving Sam alone.

"I'm going to talk to him," I told Dean, pecking him on the cheek before taking a seat next to Sam. "Hey,"

"Hey," He replied. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry-" I nudged him to shut him up.

"I should've told you," I smiled, looking down at my hands. "I guess I just don't want people to worry about me," I admitted, glancing at him.

"Especially when Dean worries enough for both of us," Sam pointed out, making me laugh but nod. I loved him for it, but it was true.

"Look, Sam," I spoke seriously, "Whatever this is - whatever is happening to us - we're going to face it together, all right? I promise," I took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, earning a small smile from him before I stood and headed over to Dean, who was waiting by the car. Jenny hugged me, smiling before going to stand by Missouri while Sam got into the car.

"Do you know what's happening?" I hesitated before asking Missouri the question.

"I'm sorry," She told me, shaking her head. "I don't, but I know that whatever is happening, you'll get through it," She nodded at Dean and Sam, who were waiting for me in the car. "You have them," I smiled as Dean honked the car impatiently. "Now, get back to your boys," I slid into the backseat, waving to Jenny and Missouri.

"Don't you be strangers!" Missouri called, and I shot her a smile. Suddenly, I frowned hearing soft mumbling from her. I thought I heard the deep throated voice of John, but I shook my head and it was gone.

"We won't!" Dean promised her, revving the engine and pulling away. _Not until I know the truth_. John's whisper floated by me like a breeze as we left Lawrence, Kansas.


	10. Asylum

****So SO sorry it took so long to get this chapter out and I'll apologize in advance because I'm probably going to update really slow for the next month (if I can even update at all). I'm traveling and really busy and stuff. So SO SO sorry, but I'll try my best to update. Promise. Anyway, I really REALLY need reviews on this one because I have an idea where this story is headed, but I need your input. I'm not going to give anything away but after you read it you'll know what I mean. There's kind of big news (well, two) in this chapter and I really need to know if you guys think it's a good idea and all! Thank you to everyone who reads this! I love you all! By for now! Hope I can update soon! ~Kitty****

_Asylum_

"No, Dad was in California last we heard from him," Sam spoke into the phone from where he was sitting on the bed opposite Dean and I. "We just thought if he comes to you for munitions, maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks. Just call us if you hear anything. Thanks," Sam snapped the phone shut.

"Caleb hasn't heard from him?" Dean questioned even though we already knew the answer.

"Nope," Sam replied, looking dejected. "Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim,"

"Or Bobby or Maxwell," I added, noticing Dean tense at my ex-boyfriend's name.

"What about the journal? Any leads in there?" Sam rushed the question as Dean opened his mouth to say something.

"No," Dean answered after glancing at me with a pause. "Same last time we looked," He replied, lowering his eyes to the journal.

"We can't make anything out," I informed Sam, frowning at the scrawl that covered the pages.

"I love the guy," Dean chuckled, flipping the page. "But I swear he writes like freaking Yoda,"

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds, file a missing person's," Sam suggested, and both Dean and my eyes snapped to him.

"No, John would just get angry if we set the Feds after him," I shot down Sam's terrible idea hurriedly.

"I don't care anymore," Sam protested, "After all that happened back in Kansas - I mean, he should have been there. Dean, you said so yourself. You tried to call him and nothing,"

"I know," Dean half agreed as his phone started ringing. He rose from beside me and began rummaging through his duffel trying to find it.

"You know, he could be dead for all we know," Sam reminded us unnecessarily, and Dean's head snapped around to look at Sam angrily.

"Don't say that," Dean was scared, and when he got scared, he got defensive.

"He's not dead," I tried my best to speak the words with conviction as I glanced at Sam and Dean. "He's just…" I trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

"He's what?" Sam asked. "He's hiding? He's busy?" Dean found the phone and flipped it up, and I came to stand next to him to see the text.

"I don't believe it," Dean chuckled with relief as I smiled a bit at the numbers.

"What?" Sam questioned, growing curious.

"He sent a text message," I responded, my smile widening. If he could send the text then it proved he was okay, "It's coordinates, Sam," I crossed the room quickly and opened the computer. Dean stood beside me, showing me the coordinates as I plugged them in to the virtual map.

"You think Dad was texting us?" Sam asked, not quite believing it.

"He's given us coordinates before," Dean pointed out, still staring intently at the computer while I worked to locate where exactly we were going.

"The man can barely work a toaster, guys," Sam was so pessimistic.

"Sam, stop being so dark," I admonished him. "This is good. If it is him, then this proves he's alright,"

"Well, was there a number on the caller I.D.?" Sam checked, and I shook my head.

"It said 'unknown'," Dean replied as the search went through and Rockford, Illinois popped up on the screen. I did a separate search for deaths in Rockford, Illinois.

"Okay, well, where do the coordinates point?" Sam continued.

"That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois," Dean answered him, leaning over me to click on one of the links, and the paper came up.

"Okay, that's interesting how?" Sam watched us work while standing a few feet away from the laptop.

"We're looking at the local paper," I explained, beckoning him over while I turned the laptop slightly so he could see. "You need to see this," I clicked on the picture of the officer. "So, this cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from work and shoots his wife, and then shoots himself. Now, earlier that same night, him and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum,"

"Okay, but I'm not following. What does this have to do with us?" Sam asked as Dean flipped through the pages of John's journal to show us.

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal," He showed Sam the old, yellowed article that had been cut from a newspaper. "Here, seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths - till last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go," Sam scoffed, standing and rubbing the back of his head with his two hands.

"This is a job," It wasn't a question, and Sam turned to face us again, clearly displaying the annoyance on his face. "Dad wants us to work a job,"'

"Yeah, well, maybe we'll meet up with him. Maybe he's there," Dean's words didn't sound right.

"Maybe he's not," Sam countered. "He could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing,"

"Who cares?" Dean asked, shutting the journal and the laptop. "If he wants us there it's good enough for me," Dean went over to his duffel bag, and started zipping it up.

"This doesn't strike either of you as weird - the texting, the coordinates?" Sam questioned dubiously, glancing back and forth between Dean and I. I rose to go over to Dean and start packing my bag.

"Sam. Dad's telling us to go somewhere. We're going," Dean spoke as if it was the end of story. He took his duffel, and I zipped mine before he took mine as well and headed out to the car.

"Sam," I began reasonably, taking in Sam's still unhappy face. "Even if he's not there, it's still a job. We're still saving lives, right?"

"I guess," He relented bitterly. "I just don't understand how he has such faith in him,"

"It's called trust, Sammy. You should try it sometime," I earned a small smile from Sam as he tried to look annoyed at my joke. We walked to the car, and I slid into the front seat with Dean while Sam sat in the back.

A slightly tense car ride later, I was sitting at a table a few feet away from the 'target' and watching the plan that I had masterminded get executed. Dean was up first. He would try to bully the policeman a little, and then Sam would shove him and tell him to get lost. Classic good cop bad cop. I kept my eyes fixed mindlessly on the beer in my hands as my hearing drifted towards the scene.

"You're Daniel Gunderson, right - the cop?" Dean asked to the man who was sitting at the table. Truthfully, I felt bad for him, not to mention full of regret about what Dean was about to do next.

"Yeah," The haunted cop replied, and Dean let out a chuckle, sitting down uninvited across from Gunderson.

"I'm Nigel Tufnel, with the_ Chicago Tribune_. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your partner?" Dean was purposefully acting obnoxiously towards the guy.

"Yeah, I do. I'm just trying to have a beer here," Gunderson replied.

"It won't take that long. I just want to hear the story in your words," Dean pressed.

"A week ago my partner was sitting in that chair, and now he's dead. Are you gonna ambush me here?" Dean's smile faltered, and his eyes flicked to mine for a split second. I quickly looked down to study my beer in case Gunderson caught the exchange.

"Sorry, but I need to know what happened," Dean insisted, and I nodded to Sammy, who was leaning against the bar. He stalked up to Dean and yanked him away from the table with aggression that surprised even me.

"Hey, buddy, how about leaving the poor guy alone?" Sam glared harshly at Dean as Dean's jaw tightened like he was preparing for a fight. I half stood, in case something went wrong. I'd orchestrated this whole thing, but I hadn't planned for the fire in Sam's eyes or the shove. "The man's an officer!Why don't you show a little respect?" Dean's eyes flicked to mine again before fixing on Sam, and then he walked out the door. I hesitated for a moment before grabbing my beer and walking out the door after him to the car.

"He shoved me a bit hard in there," Dean spoke as I leaned against the car next to him, offering him my beer, which he accepted.

"He was just making it believable," Truth be told I was uncertain too. He hadn't needed to shove Dean that hard.

"Yeah, well, he could've fooled even me," Dean grumbled, and I studied his face for a moment before smiling softly and looking away.

"We're going to find him, Dean," I promised him, and Dean glanced at me in surprise.

"Yeah, I know we will," He agreed a bit uncertainly. "It's just… why isn't he here? Why send us the coordinates if he wasn't going to show up? He should've been in Lawrence. He should've came,"

"Maybe he had his reasons," I suggested, knowing it sounded weak but not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, like what?" Dean's eyes bore into mine as he waited for my answer.

"Maybe he's onto something. Something big," Dean scoffed, shaking his head and looking away. "Dean, we'll find him, or he'll find us," Dean glanced back at me, meeting my eyes before finally nodding and sighing.

"How did I get so lucky?" He wondered aloud, making me smile a bit as he braced himself against the Impala with a hand on either side of my waist.

"You had a headstart," That caused us both to smile as he pressed his lips to mine. Just as Dean's arms were moving to encircle my waist, the bar door banged open.

"Guys," Sam sounded a bit disgusted as he waved his hand at us to get our attention. Dean muttered a few swear words under his breath and kept his arms wrapped around my waist as we faced Sam.

"Well, what'd you find?" I prompted after the silence had stretched on longer than normal.

"So, Walter Kelly was a good cop," Sam began quickly, "Head of his class, even-keeled. He had a bright future ahead of him,"

"What about at home?" Dean asked.

"He and his wife had a few fights like everybody, but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids," Sam informed us, and I bit my lip in thought.

"All right, so, either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him," Sam nodded in agreement to Dean's assessment.

"What did he say about the asylum?" I questioned.

"A lot," Sam smirked, getting into the car without bothering to tell us what that meant. Reluctantly, I got into the back and Dean slid into the driver's seat.

* * *

I jumped at the fence, and my fingers wrapped tightly around the metal links. Getting over the fence took me a bit longer than the boys but just barely. Dean landed beside me after having flipped down the side, and he sent me one of his signature - _really sexy_ - smirks. Sam led us up the stairs and opened the door to the Roosevelt Asylum.

"So, apparently the cops chased the kids here… into the south wing," Sam explained as I took a good look at the depressing room.

"South wing?" I echoed as the name tugged at a memory in my brain. I turned to Dean thoughtfully. "South wing? Wasn't that…"

"Yeah," Dean agreed without me finishing. He pulled out John's journal and began leafing through the pages. "1972 - three kids broke into the south wing only one survived,"

"He says that one of his friends went crazy and started setting fire to everything," I skimmed the article, standing beside Dean. "So, whatever is happening, the south wing seems to be the problem," I summed up, glancing at the engraved wood at the top of the door.

"Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean questioned, flipping through the pages as Sam went towards the door.

"It looks like the doors are usually chained," He pointed to the chains that hung from the handles. "They could have been chained up for years.

"Yeah, to keep people out, or to keep something in," Dean added as I reached out tentatively and pushed the door open. We walked down the hallway in silence until about halfway. "Let me know if you see any dead people, Hailey Joel," Dean glanced at his E.M.F., chuckling.

"Dude, enough," I let the boys bicker as I kept my eyes on the E.M.F.

"I'm serious. You've got to be careful, alright? Ghosts are attracted to that whole E.S.P. thing you got going on," I rolled my eyes and gave him a look. He'd gotten used to my abilities years ago, and this was just his way of coming to terms with Sam's.

"I told you, it's not E.S.P," Sam snapped, sounding ticked off. "I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams," Sam explained again.

"Yeah, whatever, don't ask, don't tell," Dean muttered, turning away from Sam.

"Are you picking up anything?" I changed the subject before the fight could get any further.

"Nope," Dean replied, sounding apprehensive. "Of course it doesn't mean nobody's home,"

"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day," Sam reminded us.

"The freaks come out at night," Dean agreed, grinning slightly before glancing at Sammy. "Hey, Sam, who do you think is a hotter psychic - Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?" I elbowed Dean in the ribs and gave him a withering look that cut his laugh short. We entered a room that was furnished with creepy broken torture mechanisms. Wonderful. The second we entered the room, my head began to pound, and my hand automatically grabbed Dean's sleeve tightly as my other hand pressed against my temples. I let out a hiss of pain and stumbled backwards, my hand slipping from Dean's sleeve and joining my other hand in covering my ears. "What's wrong? Hey, Mel," Dean's voice changed drastically from the joking tone he'd used with Sam seconds ago.

"My head," I tried to blink the pain away, but it only worsened as I started to hear distant screams. Suddenly, the screams died down, and my head cleared. I looked up to see Dean had pulled me out of the room and into the hall. "Sorry," This wasn't the first time I was annoyed with my abilities, nor was it the first time that they hindered me.

"Don't," Dean stopped my apology before he turned to Sam, who was standing behind him and gazing at me with concern. I managed a brave smile for him, which must have looked as weak as it felt for he frowned at me. "You check it out. We'll wait here," Sam glanced at Dean before looking back at me.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam asked me uncertainly. I smiled more convincingly and nodded. He ducked back into the room, and Dean cradled my head between his hands while I met his green eyes determinedly.

"What happened?" He demanded, looking angry and protective, searching my face for any signs of pain.

"My head started to hurt, and I could hear… screaming. Dean, I think people were tortured in there," Dean glanced at the door before looking back at me.

"Is it gone now? Do you still feel the pain?" I raised my hands to my cheeks to cover his hands with my smaller ones.

"I'm okay. It stopped as soon as I left the room," I told him, and his hard gaze finally softened.

"We haven't eaten all day, and you're probably hungry. After Sam's done we'll stop by a diner; I saw one on the way over," A small smile touched my lips, and I nodded in agreement. "Okay," Dean kissed my forehead lightly.

"Have you talked to him yet?" I questioned after a moment, glancing at the door and remembering Sam was on the other side.

"No," Dean admitted after a hesitant moment. I sighed, resting my forehead on his chest for a moment before raising me eyes to meet his.

"You have to talk to him at some point," I told him, and he shook his head.

"You know Sam as well as I do. He'll want to go after Dad, and we have to finish the job. Dad gave us an order," Dean protested.

"You're right," I agreed, and Dean glanced at me in surprise. "But you still have to talk to him about it," I added, smiling slightly as he sighed in defeat. For a few moments we just stood there in a comfortable silence. I studied Dean's face as he studied mine. "What're you thinking about?" Usually, I could read Dean fairly well, but there were times, like now, where his brow furrowed and his face was a mask of worry, that I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"What changed your mind?" He questioned, his thumb tracing my jawline. A slight smile graced his lips as he took in my confusion. "About us," And suddenly his question was painfully clear. I glanced away from him for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "It's been eight years, Mel. Why now?"

"The Aswang hunt in Los Angeles?" I finally started before hesitating again.

"I saved your life," Dean prompted, but I shook my head.

"No," Dean frowned, and I hurried on before he could interrupt. "You didn't just save my life. You sacrificed yourself for me," I suppressed a shiver, remembering that hunt.

"You dumped me because I would die for you?" A note of anger crept into Dean's voice as he asked the question.

"I broke up with you because I couldn't watch you do it!" I snapped at him, a sudden anger rose in me. "I can't watch you die, Dean," I just shook my head, tears burning behind my eyes as that painful memory resurfaced. "I thought that if I broke up with you - if you didn't love me anymore - I couldn't get you killed," I gazed at his chest, not being able to look him in the eyes, too afraid of what he would think. My eyes snapped up as I heard a small chuckle. "Well, I'm glad you think-" I was cut off by Dean's lips pressed against mine. He pulled away, smiling still.

"What changed your mind?" He asked again, and I smiled slightly.

"The Siren in New Mexico," Dean frowned, remembering the hunt a year ago that landed me in the hospital and almost did the same to him. "I realized that you were always going to be dumb enough to almost get yourself killed saving me," I lightened my tone to tease him with the last part. He laughed slightly, leaning down to press his lips against mine for a sweet moment before pulling away and looking into my eyes.

"I'm always going be there to protect you," He promised me, and I was completely enthralled by his eyes. His hot breath brushed against my cheek, and his smoldering eyes desperately searched mine for belief.

"I know," I whispered, our faces centimeters apart. "And I'll always be there to cover you when you do," We both smiled slightly as I closed the gap between our lips. If I had never become a hunter - if I had never known Dean, I would've never believed I could love anyone as much as I loved him.

"I know where we have to go next-" Sam's excited voice burst through the door and cut off quickly as he saw us. I broke away from Dean quickly, guilty at rubbing our relationship in his face. "Um, I'll just… I'll wait by the car," He moved around us and hurried down the hallway while I frowned after him. Sam had never been one to be awkward and stuttering… well, not since he was in high school anyway.

"That was weird," Dean muttered distractedly, also staring after Sam.

"We should see what he found," I told him, shrugging and pecking him on the lips before I took his hand and led him down the hall.

We'd been riding for twenty minutes in complete silence and had only stopped briefly to check a yellow pages from one of the pay phones. Apparently, there was a psychologist named James Ellicott, who was related to a doctor that worked in the south wing of the asylum.

"It's just kissing, Sam. We didn't commit treason," Dean decided to use that very awkward icebreaker. Sam glanced at us from where he had just finished making his 'appointment' with the psychologist and was snapping the phone shut.

"I know," He sounded defensive, glancing at the rearview while I avoided his gaze.

"Okay," Another very awkward silence ensued until Dean pulled into a diner where we ate before continuing on to Dr. Ellicott's office.

"You two can just wait out here," Sam told us, already opening the door. "I'll only be a couple minutes,"

"Yeah," Dean agreed, flashing a thumbs up as Sam disappeared inside. What had that been about?

-3rd Person-

"Sam Winchester?" Sam looked up as an older man dressed in a blue button down shirt and green jacket called his name from the doorway.

"That's me," He confirmed, glancing up from the Men's Health magazine he'd been blankly flipping through.

"Come on in," Dr. Ellicott gestured for him to follow as he disappeared inside the door. Sam glanced at the magazine once more before tossing it aside and standing.

"Thanks again for seeing me last minute," Sam had thanked him on the phone, but he figured being polite was a good way to start the session. Especially if he wanted to get answers out of him. The doctor shut the doors behind them as Sam took a seat on the couch. Instinctively, Sam scanned the room, his eyes catching the picture of Dr. Ellicott and a girl, who was most likely his daughter, laughing in the woods before they moved on to read the award plaque that was mounted on the wall.

"Dr. Ellicott?" Sam began conning. "Ellicott - that name. Wasn't there a Dr. Sanford Ellicott? Yeah," Sam went on as if it was all coming back to him now. "He was a chief psychiatrist somewhere," Dr. James Ellicott nodded proudly, crossing his legs and pulling out a yellow notepad.

"My father was chief of staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum. How did you know?" Sam raised his eyebrows, pretending to be impressed as his mind scrambled for an answer to the psychologist's question. He found his mind skipping back to Mel and the excuse she always used.

"Well, I'm sort of a local-history buff. Hey, wasn't there an incident or something in the hospital, I guess - in the south wing, right?" This better be right. Sam briefly reflected on how crazy he'd sound if it wasn't.

"We're on your dollar, Sam," _Well, actually Dean's dollar_, Sam thought, suppressing a smirk. "We're here to talk about you," This may be harder than he originally thought.

"Oh, okay, yeah, yeah, sure," Sam agreed, remembering Mel's lesson on improvisation and conning. Always agree with the person your trying to get information from. "So," He prompted the doctor, hoping to get the shrink stuff out of the way fast.

"So, how's things?" Dr. Ellicott asked, and Sam glanced away, trying to come up with a viable response.

"Uh, things are good, Doctor," He nodded, with what he hoped was a convincing smile.

"Good," The doctor smiled back briefly, clearly not buying it. "What have you been doing?" Sam glanced away again, wracking his brain for an answer.

"Uh…Same old," He shook his head, shrugging as if it didn't matter. "I've just been on a road trip with my brother and his girlfriend,"

"Was that fun?" The doctor was looking at him understandingly, and Sam nodded uncomfortably.

"Loads," He responded, briefly wondering if Mel was listening from outside but he dismissed the thought. She wouldn't pry. "Um… you know… we… met a lot of… interesting people. Did a lot of, uh, a lot of interesting things," Sam tried his best not to lie to the man. "Uh… you know, what was it exactly that happened in the south wing? I forget-"

"Look, if you're a local history buff, then you know all about the Roosevelt riot," The doctor cocked his head as he spoke, studying Sam's reaction.

"The riot?" Sam echoed in a momentary surprise before gathering himself. "Well, no, I know, I'm just curious-"

"Sam. Let's cut the bull, shall we?" The doctor cut him off firmly, placing the notepad back on the desk. "You're avoiding the subject,"

"What subject?" Sam questioned uneasily.

"You," The doctor answered, and Sam tensed slightly. "Now, I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you all about the Roosevelt riot if you tell me something honest about yourself. Like, uh, this brother you're road tripping with, and his girlfriend… how do you feel about them?" Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the window behind him. "It's alright. They can't hear you," Sam almost laughed at the doctor's reassurance.

"Dean, he's, uh, he's stubborn," Sam finally landed but winced at how it sounded. "He means well, but… I'm not a little kid anymore, you know?" Sam had no idea why he was saying all of this, but it felt good to open up to someone. "We - our dad, he's, well, uh…"

"Overbearing?" Dr. Ellicott suggested, and Sam's eyebrows rose.

"That's an understatement. Anyway, Dean, he just follows. Whatever Dad says, even if he's not here," The words were pouring out of Sam now. "I've always looked up to him, you know? Dad trusted him, he was always confident, he got the girl-" Sam stopped abruptly. He hadn't meant for those words to escape his lips.

"His girlfriend?" The doctor prompted, his eyes a bit wider.

"Mel's not just his girlfriend," Sam confessed, "Our dad took her in when we were little. She's my best friend - she has been all my life,"

"Sam, sometimes knowing someone for a long time blinds you to what you are feeling," Sam frowned at him in confusion. He couldn't be saying… no. No, that was impossible. "You never saw her as maybe more than a friend?" Sam hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the window again.

"When we were younger - high school - for a short time. Well, I was in high school, she's four years older than me," Sam shrugged quickly, shifting uncomfortably.

"What happened?" The doctor asked him.

"During my senior year, I was thinking about going to college, but I was nervous," Sam remembered fondly with a small smile, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. "She encouraged me to do it. I got in," Sam swallowed and shook his head lightly. "But when she asked me, I lied and said I didn't,"

"Why?" Sam shrugged in answer to the doctor's question.

"I was going to stay with her and Dean, and I didn't want her to feel guilty. Anyway, she found out and convinced me to go," Sam finished his story, blinking back into the present and realizing he'd just told the doctor something he'd never told anyone before.

"How long ago was that?" The doctor questioned, not at all fazed by his confession.

"Four years," Sam answered.

"And do you think that now that because you're spending all this time with her, old feelings might be resurfacing?" Sam immediately shook his head.

"No, no… no," He gave his head another hard shake. "Look, I appreciate you trying to help, Dr. Ellicott, but I think it's time for you to hold up your part of the deal. Tell me about the Roosevelt Asylum,"

-1st Person-

"I'm not spying on Sam's appointment with the shrink," Dean sighed in defeat at my firm statement. Sam had been in there for a long time now, and every so often I would stretch my hearing just enough to hear his voice before snapping it back to me. Just to make sure he was alright and not in trouble. "He's coming out," I realized suddenly, pushing off the glass window and straightening just as Sam walked out the door.

"Dud, you were in there forever," Dean told him, following Sam, who barely glanced at us. "What the hell were you talking about?"

"Just the hospital, you know," Sam's heartbeat faltered, but I let the lie go.

"And? Did you ask about the hospital?" I questioned, interested in what was going on.

"And the south wing, it's where they housed the real hard cases - the psychotics, the criminally insane," Sam listed, emphasizing by giving each a finger.

"Sounds cozy," Dean quipped sarcastically.

"Yeah, and one night in '64, they rioted - attacked the staff, attacked each other," Sam continued.

"So the patients overran the facility," I summed up. "Deaths?"

"Some patients, some staff," Sam answered, not looking at me but instead focusing on the car. I frowned, something was definitely off. "I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott,"

"What do you mean never recovered?" Dean questioned.

"Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients must have… stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden," "Lovely," I made a face, and Sam's eyes didn't even flick to me, just stayed focused on Dean.

"So they transferred all the surviving patients and shut down the hospital for good," Sam finished.

"All right to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies," Dean summarized Sam's information.

"Which means a bunch of vengeful spirits," I added.

"Yeah, good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight," Dean's eyebrows quirked, and I grinned as I walked to the passenger's seat and slid in.

-SPN-

I pushed the door open for the second time today, and it swung open with a loud, protesting creak. Dean readied the E.M.F. while Sam and I turned on our flashlights, running them over the dark hallway. Sam raised the video camera, turning on the night vision, and pointed it in front of us as we walked.

"Getting anything?" I questioned, as I shivered slightly. I was getting a really bad feeling from this place.

"Yeah, big time," Dean answered, and I could hear the E.M.F. spiking.

"This place is orbing like crazy," Sam added, and Dean and I stopped to study the video camera that showed flecks of silver light everywhere.

"There's definitely multiple spirits," I pointed out, scanning the room.

"And if these unrecovered bodies are causing the haunting?" Sam started.

"We got to find them and burn them," Dean finished, glancing around the hallway. "Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit is a pissed off spirit of a psycho killer," We had barely started walking again when I heard an ominous whoosh from behind us. I whipped around just in time to see the vague outline of a man before he vanished completely. "What is it?" I shook my head at Dean's question.

"I thought I saw something," We turned back and began walking down the hallway again. Sam took one room, and Dean and I scanned the other. I let my hearing drift, trying to pick up something important but frowned when I heard breathing. It wasn't coming from Dean, Sam, or me. Maybe a spirit? Did spirits breathe though? "De-" I began before I was cut off by Sam's yell from the other room.

"Mel! Shotgun!" I sprinted into the other room and raised the gun, cocking it.

"Get down," I ordered before firing it at the ghost of an old woman. The woman disappeared. I handed Dean the shotgun before offering Sam a hand that he accepted. "You okay?"

"Yeah," He confirmed to my relief. "That was weird,"

"Yeah, you're telling me," Dean muttered, handing me back the shotgun before heading back towards the other room with the duffel slung over his shoulder. I followed.

"No, guys, I mean, it was weird that she didn't attack me," Sam elaborated, catching up with us.

"It looked pretty Aggro from where I was standing," Dean replied.

"Maybe Sam has a point. She could've hurt him; she had plenty of time," I pointed out, backing Sam.

"Exactly, so if she didn't want to hurt me, then what did she want?" Sam asked the million dollar question.

"Guys," I stopped short in front of a seemingly deserted room. "We aren't alone,"

"More spirits?" Dean questioned, unslinging the duffel from his shoulder, but I shook my head.

"No…" I frowned as my ears caught the heartbeat. "Dean, I think there's people in here," I handed Dean the shotgun and stepped into the room cautiously. I didn't have to turn to know Dean had cocked the shotgun and was following me. Sam reached forward and pulled the bed away. A girl was sitting there, pressing herself against the wall and hyperventilating.

"Hey, hey, relax," I ordered her, holding my hands up in surrender. "We won't hurt you. It's okay," I held out my hand, and she took it gratefully, getting to her feet. "What's you're name?"

"Katherine," She responded softly. "Kat," She corrected with more conviction.

"Okay, I'm Mel. This is Dean and Sam," I pointed to each brother without breaking eye contact with Kat.

"What're you doing here?" Sam questioned incredulously.

"Um… my boyfriend, Gavin-" Despite everything, I smiled slightly. I knew how this story went.

"Is he here?" Dean asked her.

"Somewhere," The girl answered. "He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts," Dean and I exchanged annoyed glances. "I thought it was all just…you know…pretend," She pulled her jacket tighter around herself. "I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream, and-"

"All right, Kat, come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here. Then we're gonna find your boyfriend," Sam and I both glanced at Dean in surprise as he took Kat by the wrist and started leading her towards the door.

"No, no," She protested, taking her wrist back. "I'm not gonna leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you,"

"It's no joke around here, okay? It's dangerous," Dean tried to talk her out of it.

"That's why I've got to find him," Dean glanced at me, and I gave him a small nod and a shrug.

"All right, I guess we're gonna split up, then," Dean told us. There was a moment of silence as each of us internally debated how we would split up.

"I'll take Kat," I finally volunteered, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean stiffen. "We'll take the right hallway. You two can take the middle," I added, and Dean hesitated.

"Be careful," I smiled at his concern as he handed me the shotgun and took the second one out of his duffel.

"You too," I returned before leading Kat out the door and into the hallway.

"Gavin!" She called out, and I winced slightly as her call was magnified tenfold to my ears.

"You see a lot of horror movies, yeah?" I decided to give her a little piece of advice.

"I guess so," I turned to face her as we stopped.

"Next time you see on, try paying attention," I told her. "When someone says a place is haunted, and people have died there, don't go in," I turned and started walking again, hearing Kat follow after a moment. My flashlight started to flicker, and I shook it but it died all the same. "Crap. Just my luck," I muttered. "Okay, stay behind me," I winced as her grip tightened on my arm. "Kat, I know you're scared, but can you loosen your grip. I need my arm to shoot,"

"What are you talking about? I'm not touching you," I froze, slowly turning to look at her terrified face before lowering my gaze to the dirty, boney hand that clutched my arm. I let out a short yelp of surprise as I was yanked and the world blurred past me. The first thing I realized after I was released was that the heavy metal door had slammed behind me. The second thing was that I had dropped my gun.

"Kat!" I yelled, banging on the door, and I heard her muffled shouts on the other side. "The shotgun. Do you see it?" I wasn't sure she could even hear me. "Kat, the shotgun!" I screamed as loudly as I could.

"I have it!" She yelled back. There was a bang as she fired it at the handle of the door. It was rock salt, which meant it wouldn't do anything. I turned to study the room and see if there was anything I could use to break out. I felt hot breath on my neck and whipped around, backing away from the spirit, who disappeared as soon as I saw him. There was a hiss behind me and I whipped around again to see him standing there. I forced myself to calm down and think of a way out. I remembered what Sam said. It didn't want to hurt him. Maybe if I just listened it would release me. I swallowed every hunter's instinct in my body telling me to find a way to escape.

"Melody!" I heard Dean yell from the other side of the door. I pressed my back against the wall and faced the spirit, taking a deep, calming breath.

"Mel! Listen, it won't hurt you!" I nodded even though I knew Sam couldn't see me. "You have to face it! You have to calm down,"

"You calm down!" I hollered back, the banter actually making me feel a bit calmer.

"She's got to what?" I could hear the fear and anger in Dean's voice.

"The spirits, they're not trying to hurt us. They're trying to communicate. You've got to face it. It's the only way you're going to get out of there. Look at it, that's all!"

"Mel, do it!" I focused on Dean's voice and forced myself to rest my eyes on the haggard man that was in front of me. The man leaned in to whisper in my ear, and I shivered at the grating voice. 137. That the number it whispered before disappearing. "Mel? Mel!" The door clicked open, and I walked towards it quickly. Dean pulled it open, and rushed inside, holding my face between his hands and studying me for any signs of pain.

"I'm fine," I assured him as Sam looked around with the flashlight. "137,"

"What?" Dean frowned as Sam came over.

"137. That was what it said. I think it's a room number," Dean glanced at me before leading us to the bag he'd dropped outside of the room.

"All right," Sam began as we crouched next to the bag. "So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone,"

"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean finished the question.

"That may be what they've been trying to tell us," I spoke up quietly.

"I guess we'll find out," We stood, turning back to the two teens. "So, now, you guys ready to leave this place?"

"That's an understatement," Kat told us.

"Okay," Dean turned to Sam. "You get them out of here; we'll go find room 137," We headed off down the hallway in search of the room as Sam led the teens away.

"The rooms are going up this way. Come on," I made a turn down a long deserted hall.

"Bring back memories?" I furrowed my brow at Dean's joking question. "Wasn't there that guy in high school that took you to some haunted warehouse?" I laughed as my expression cleared, and I did remember.

"Micky Larson," I grinned as it all came back. "John was so mad," We both frowned as I said that, "And you were jealous,"

"I was not," He denied immediately.

"You were," I told him, laughing softly as we entered room 137.

"No, I just didn't think he was the right guy for you," Dean tried to worm his way out as I lifted a sign that was on one of the tables: Dr. Sanford Ellicott.

"Because you thought you are?" I raised my eyebrow at him, turning and saw him grinning.

"Maybe," He admitted, and I smiled slightly before going back to the hunt.

"Dr. Sanford Ellicott," I raised the sign so he could see. He knelt by some papers and flipped through them before tossing them aside.

"Hey, I think I found something," I glanced up from where I'd been rummaging through the scattered papers on the table. Dean was pulling out a piece of board from the wall. He took the briefcase out of the hole in the wall and set it on the floor as I knelt beside him. "This is why I get paid the big bucks,"

"You don't get paid at all," I reminded him, shining my flashlight on the book that he'd taken out of the briefcase. "Patient's journal," I read, wincing I could hear distant screaming again. This time, I shut it out. Dean took the book and helped me up, and we moved to the desk.

"Well, all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy," I hit Dean's shoulder lightly as he quipped, but I couldn't hide the smile that tugged at my lips. There was a rush of wind from behind us, and my head snapped around.

"Don't be afraid. I'm going to make you all better," I stood quickly, the words sending chills down my spine. The owner of the dark, evil voice may as well have been standing right behind me.

"What? What is it?" I shook my head at Dean's concerned questions.

"I don't know, but something's wrong," Dean snapped the book shut and followed me as I hurried through the hallways back the way we'd come. "I think it's through here," The door shut behind us with a bang. We rounded the corner, and my eyes widened as I saw Kat with a shotgun pointed at our heads. I spun, grabbing Dean's jacket and pulling him down behind the wall as the shot embedded itself into the wall we'd been standing in front of a moment earlier.

"You okay?" I checked quickly.

"Yeah, yeah. Damn it," Dean swore, "Don't shoot! It's us!"

"Sorry. Sorry," Kat apologized weakly.

"Son of a bitch," We rose and rounded the corner again. "What are you guys still doing here?"

"Where's Sam?" I added, worry rising in my stomach.

"Uh, he went to the basement. You called him," My heart sunk as my eyes widened.

"We didn't call him," Dean told them.

"His cell phone rang. He said it was you two," Kat told us in confusion.

"Basement, then," I glanced at Dean who nodded. "Watch out for yourselves," I advised the teenagers. "And watch out for us," Dean added, giving them a look before we turned and left to find the basement.

"Sammy?" I had my shotgun pointed at the floor as we descended the steps to the basement. It had only taken us a minute or two to get here, but I had a bad feeling about this whole thing. If Sam were here, why wouldn't he have said something? Or found us? "Sam!" I called again, echoing Dean's calls. My flashlight suddenly illuminated Sam, who was standing right in front of us. Dean jerked back, his arm instinctively wrapping around my waist and pulling me slightly behind him as I aimed the shotgun. We both relaxed when we realized it was just Sam.

"Man! Answer me when I'm calling you!" Dean snapped at him.

"Jesus, Sam, don't _do_ that," I gave him a glare as I regained my breath.

"You all right?" Dean questioned after a moment, seeing Sam's closed face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," He replied sharply, making me scrutinize him.

"You know that wasn't us who called your cell, right?" Dean checked, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I think something lured me down here," Sam told us, and I nodded.

"We think we know who - Dr. Ellicott," I informed him. "It's what the other spirits have been trying to tell us,"

"You haven't seen him, have you?" Dean asked, seeing the surprised but guarded look on Sam's face.

"No. How do you know it was him?" I had an uncomfortable feeling about Sam, but I shook it off.

"He had a logbook where he kept track of all the patients he was experimenting on," I explained to him, that persistent feeling coming back again. "We found it in room 137,"

"But it was the patients who rioted," Sam reasoned.

"Yeah, they were rioting against Dr. Ellicott," Dean told him before elaborating. "Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of extreme-rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger, then they could be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier,"

"So, we were thinking that this spirit might be doing the same thing," I added. "The cop killing his wife, and those kids in the seventies. They become so angry they're homicidal,"

"Come on," Dean brushed passed Sam and I followed him. "We got to find his bones and torch them,"

"How? The police never found his body," Sam questioned.

"The logbook said he had some hidden procedure room down here where he did all his experiments," I explained.

"I mean," Dean continued for me. "If I was a patient, I'd drag his ass down here and do a little work on him myself," We turned to go again when Sam stopped us.

"I don't know. It sounds kind of-" Sam shrugged, frowning.

"Crazy?" I finished questioningly.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Exactly," I shot him a smile before returning my gaze to the door that Dean had found. We walked through and shone our flashlights around, not seeing anything particularly out of the ordinary.

"I told you I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room," Sam again tried to deter us from our theory.

"Well, that's why they call it hidden," There was a moment of silence that was filled with a whistling sound. "You hear that?"

"What?" Sam asked pointedly, but I was way ahead of them. I crouched in front of where the whistling was emanating.

"It's here," Dean knelt next to me and put his hand over the bottom of it, feeling the breeze. "There's a door," I confirmed before freezing as I heard the cocking of a gun behind us.

"Dean, Mel," Dean turned to see Sam holding the gun at us. "Step back from the door,"

"Sam, put the gun down," Dean tried to reason with him as my eyes flicked from the barrel of the gun to Sam's stormy brown eyes.

"Is that an order?" He asked sharply.

"It's more of a friendly request," Dean smiled shakily.

"'Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders," He raised the gun further, and I swallowed hard. The gun was filled with rock salt. Even if he did fire, it wouldn't kill.

"I knew it," Dean smirked at him, and Sam frowned back. "Ellicott did something to you, didn't he?" Dean was stalling him, and I tried to think of a way to distract him or knock him out.

"For once in your life just shut your mouth," I stepped forward, and the gun was immediately trained on me. "Don't move," I froze again, my eyes trained on Sam's.

"Or what?" I questioned, hoping I was right. "You're going to shoot me?" I took another small step forward and Sam's finger tightened on the trigger as he cocked his head, regarding me angrily.

"Mel, stop moving," Dean's voice was laced with uncertainty and fear.

"Don't order her around!" Sam snapped, turning on Dean.

"You can't kill me. The gun's filled with rock salt," Dean pointed out, and I knew what was going to happen a second before it did.

"Sam, no!" I screamed as the rock salt hit Dean's chest, sending him through the door and into the hidden room.

"No, but it'll hurt like hell," I barely heard Sam as worry for Dean clouded my mind. I took a quick step in his direction but was stop by Sam cocking the gun at me.

"Don't move," I took another cautious step towards Dean. "I said don't move!" Another step. I needed to make sure he was alright. Another step. "You love him," Sam sneered, and my eyes widened fractionally in surprise.

"Yes, I do," I answered with conviction.

"How can you?" Another couple of steps. I was more than halfway now. "He's arrogant and bossy and annoying," Sam vented as he followed me. One step backward from me, one step forward from Sam.

"Look, Sam, we can help you, okay? I know you're angry, but if we burn Ellicott's bones you'll be better. You'll be able to think clearly-"

"I can think fine!" He snapped at me, and I knew I'd misspoken. "See, that's the thing with you, Mel. You always defend him. You defended Dad too. They don't deserve it! What do you see in him?" I glanced down at Dean who was lying frighteningly still on the floor, before glancing at Sam and then at the gun in his hand and then back to Dean. I couldn't take it anymore and dropped down next to him, cradling his limp head in my hands.

"Dean? Hey, come on," I shook his shoulders, and his eyes fluttered open. He began to gag and cough, his back arching in pain. "You're okay," Despite everything, I smiled in shaky relief that he was fine.

"Mel," His voice held relief as he murmured my name. "Sam…?" My eyes flicked up to Sam, and Dean followed my gaze. "We've got to burn Ellicott's bones, and all this will be over, and you'll be back to normal," His voice was gruff with pain as he spoke to Sam.

"Funny, that's what Mel said too. The thing is…" Sam flashed us a hate filled smile. "I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean why are we even here? 'Cause you're are following Dad's orders like a good, little soldier? 'Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"

"This isn't you talking, Sam," Dean grunted, still lying on the floor.

"That's the difference between you and me and Mel. We have minds of our own. We're not pathetic like you,"

"Sam, just let us burn the bones," I glared at him, hating how he included me as he berated Dean.

"Shut up, Mel!" He snarled at me, and my glare hardened.

"What are you gonna do, Sam?" Dean shouted back, his voice still holding pain but now there was a tinge of rage. "Kill me?"

"You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today then we were six months ago,"

"Let me make it easier for you," I glanced at Dean to see him taking out a pistol from his jacket.

"No," I immediately grabbed the gun to stop him from giving it to Sam.

"It's okay, Mel. He won't shoot me," I frowned, looking into his eyes, trying to see what he was up to. "Besides, if he does he knows you'll give him hell," Slowly, my hands slid off the gun. Give him hell. We'd created that one a year or two ago, before Sam came back. The code word for 'I've got a plan'. He handed the gun to Sam. "Come on. Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt. Take it," Sam hesitated, glancing between Dean and I before snatching the gun pointing it at Dean. "You hate me that much?" Dean asked him. "You think you can kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger," I positioned myself in front of Dean, so the gun was aimed straight at me.

"Get out of the way," Sam ordered, and I just glared at him.

"No. If you want to kill Dean, you're going to have to kill me too, Sam," Sam cocked the gun, pressing it to my head, and I felt Dean's fingers intertwine with mine. Dean had a plan. Dean had a plan. Dean had a plan. I repeated the mantra in my head, and it kept me calm as the gun trembled slightly in Sam's hands. "Do it!" There was a click but no shot. He glared in confusion and pulled the trigger again. I quickly regained my scattered wits and grabbed the unloaded gun, pulling it to the side as Dean lunged upward to punch Sam in the face. I got to my feet as Dean panted, doubled over.

"Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded gun," Dean punched him again, efficiently knocking Sam out. I grabbed the discarded shotgun, cocking it before turning back to Dean, who was looking at me.

"What?" I questioned, catching his look.

"Don't do that again," Seeing my confusion, he continued. "You were going to take the bullet for me," My confusion cleared instantly, and I smiled slightly.

"You okay?" I asked instead of answering.

"Yeah, I think so," We walked around the hidden room, looking for a place big enough to hide a body. My eyes fell on a cabinet, and, on a hunch, I walked towards it.

"Dean, I think I found it," I felt Dean crouch behind me as I opened the cabinet doors. The stench was overpowering, and I gagged, turning my head away and covering my nose with the back of my hand.

"Oh, that's just gross," Dean groaned disgustedly.

"Yeah," I agreed, zipping open the bag and sprinkling the corpse with salt while Dean unscrewed the gasoline. I turned to take a quick breath and almost lost my lunch at the rank odor.

"Soak it up," Dean muttered as he finished with the gasoline. I glanced at him as he talked, but my eyes slid passed him to look at the flickering flashlight.

"Dean!" I shouted a warning, diving out of the way of the tray as it smashed into Dean and sent him sprawling. I pushed myself up hurriedly as I saw the ghost straddling Dean and heard the crackle of electricity fill the air.

"Don't be afraid. I'm going to help you," I grabbed the matches from the ground. "I'm going to make you all better," The doctor was saying as Dean yelled in pain. I struck a match and lit up the corpse. The doctor released Dean, who scrambled towards me quickly. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me backwards, away from the doctor that was now facing us. He held up his hands as they began to turn to black stone. Dean and I were laying on the floor, my face pressed into his jacket and his pressed into my hair. The doctor fell, the stone cracking and breaking into dust. Slowly, Dean loosened his grip on me, and we sat up, glancing at the dead spirit. There was a groan from behind us, and I turned to see Sam was waking up.

"You're not gonna try to kill us, right?" I asked him.

"No," Sam answered.

"Good. 'Cause that would be awkward," I let out a small laugh at Dean's words, shaking my head at him.

* * *

"Thanks," Kat told us as we faced the teens.

"Yeah, thanks," Her boyfriend echoed gratefully.

"No more haunted asylums, okay?" Dean told them, and they nodded in agreement before walking away. I smiled as I saw Gavin's arm go around Kat's shoulders.

"Hey, guys," My eyes shifted from Gavin's retreating car to Sam's guilty face as he looked away from Dean and I. "I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there,"

"You remember all that?" I questioned, slightly surprised.

"Yeah," He glanced at Dean but didn't meet my eyes. "It's like I couldn't control it, but I didn't mean it - any of it," Sam emphasized the last part, his eyes finally finding me.

"You didn't, huh?" Dean echoed doubtfully.

"No, of course not," Dean glanced at me, and I saw the distrust in his gaze as he nodded. _What do you see in him?_ Sam's bitter words from earlier bounced around in my head. He had sounded almost… jealous. But that was ridiculous. I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts. Sam was my little brother. "Do we need to talk about this?" Sam asked, his eyes flicking between Dean and I.

"No," Dean answered, slipping his arm from around my shoulders and opening the car door. "I'm not really in the sharing and caring kind of mood. I just want to get some sleep," He slammed the door behind him, and I offered Sammy a slightly strained smile before starting towards the door.

"Mel," I glanced back, my hand on the door. "How did you know the gun wasn't loaded?" Sammy asked me.

"I didn't," I replied, and Sam's mouth formed an 'o' of horrified shock.

"I'm sorry," I held up a hand to stop his apology.

"It wasn't you, Sammy," _It wasn't him_. I repeated in my head. None of it was. "It was Dr. Ellicott," I opened the door and slipped inside next to Dean. We drove for most of that day, and it was eleven when we finally stopped and got a motel room. We only got one room this time because the motel only had one available and the next motel was at least an hour. We'd barely dumped our stuff in the room when Sam took the car to get some takeout.

"I was serious," I glanced at Dean as I came out of the bathroom in shorts and one of his shirts. I'd started sleeping in Dean's shirts ever since the nightmares had started. "Back in the asylum about you taking a bullet for me,"

"Dean-" I started.

"You had no way of knowing that gun wasn't loaded-" He cut me off.

"I trust you," I interrupted him, going through my bag and tucking a small knife under the mattress like I always do. "You wouldn't just hand crazy Sam a loaded gun. Besides, give him hell," I reminded him of our code as I turned to face him.

"You had no idea what I was doing," How could Dean be so thick sometimes? Of course I would have given my life to save him. "Mels, I don't want you risking your life for me,"

"I do that every day! I've been doing that for years, Dean. Practically ever since we could walk. And it's not like you don't do the same," I pointed out, getting a bit angry now.

"This is different!" He finally exploded, and I could see that behind the anger he'd been scared.

"Dean, even if it wasn't Sam and you hadn't given him the pistol, I still would've stood in front of you!" I yelled back. It was true. Even if it had been a loaded gun, I still would've been between Dean and the gun.

"Why?" He shouted.

"Because I love you!" I hadn't meant for the words to come out of my mouth, and I swallowed hard, not able to tear my eyes from Dean's stunned ones. "I love you," I repeated, not backing down from the words. "And I-" I was cut off by Dean's mouth harshly pressed against mine. I broke away, smiling as Dean rested his forehead against mine with closed eyes.

"You would not believe how long I've waited to hear you say that," He whispered, and I raised my lips to meet his passionately. This time he broke away, but only long enough to whisper, "I love you,". He pressed me against the wall, pulling his shirt over my head; I did the same with his. He propped me up with his hands under my thighs and my legs wrapped around his waist. We stumbled backward blindly until we made it to the bed. My back hit the bed as I undid his belt quickly. He covered my body with his.

* * *

I blinked awake at a cell ringing on the nightstand. I shifted, and Dean, who was lying behind me with his arms around my waist, gave a moan of protest. The cell rang again.

"Dean. Mel," Sam called sleepily from the bed across from us. My eyes suddenly shot open and I glanced down at myself only to realize I'd put on Dean's shirt and my shorts before Sam had come back.

"I got it," I mumbled tiredly, searching blindly for the phone. My fingers closed around the cool surface, and I flipped it open, pressing the speaker to my ear. "Hello?" My voice sounded groggy, but I didn't really care.

"Mel?" Whatever sleep had been making me slow was gone in an instant, and I shot up, suddenly completely focused on the voice on the line.

"John?"


End file.
